


Up and Up

by Skyshadow3246, Wolfloner



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Depression, Description of past torture, Dog doesn't die, Dont worry he gets better!, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, PTSD - flashbacks, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Platonic Tony Stark Cuddles, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Really Just a Lot of Angst, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, because really who does that?, like i need to apologize for how slow this burn is, no really, slow slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2020-06-09 19:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 278,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19482757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyshadow3246/pseuds/Skyshadow3246, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner
Summary: It's been 2 years since the Helicarrier crash and Bucky has slowly been struggling to rebuild who he is. Living alone on the fringes in Bucharest is not without it's challenges but at least he is safe while he tries to piece back together his shattered memories. Until a slip up in a moment of panic brings Steve and Natasha into his far removed life. In hopes of restoring his broken mind, he returns with them to Stark Tower to begin the long road to recovery. The road is full of potholes and wrong turns but along the way he grows close with his new friends and as time goes on begins to fall head over heels for Steve.An angst ridden story about Bucky Barnes recovery from Hydra's torture.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

Bucharest, Romania  
Oct 31 2016

His eyes snapped open, the whispers of the nightmare still gripping his mind. The first few rays of sunlight were slipping through the heavy cloth over the windows. In the distance he could hear the faint rumble of voices as the world woke up and began its morning. A low whine issued from a few feet away. 

Standing, he walked to the door and opened it. “Hey, Pup,” he said. His voice sounded rough. Had he shouted in the night?

A scrawny brown dog slipped through the open door. She was thin, too thin, each rib standing out sharply under her fur. He had found her as a puppy. She had wandered into the street and became paralyzed with fear as the cars rolled around her. He'd grabbed her out of the road and brought her home. That had been almost a year ago. She licked his fingers, her whole body wagging as she greeted him. Kneeling, he rubbed her ears and she crawled bodily into his lap.

He sat like that for awhile, still rubbing her ears and listening as the sounds of the city rose. His small apartment was on the ground floor off an alley in the dying slums of the city. It was close enough to the city he could hear it, but far enough away to not have to get involved. 

Standing finally he moved to the kitchen. Pulling out a couple slices of bread he ate one himself and tossed the other to Pup who inhaled it. He pulled a pan out of the cabinet and a couple of eggs which he scrambled. He tossed Pup the shells which she happily licked clean before devouring them.

Once the eggs were cooked he took a few mouthfuls for himself and tossed the rest to her. He was used to tight rations, and she needed it more than him. Moving back into the room he knelt at his bag sitting on the floor and pulled out clothes for the day. He quickly stripped out of yesterday's clothes and pulled on the clean ones. He tossed the clothes from yesterday into the sink to wash.

He filled a cup of water from the sink for himself and a bowl for Pup. She drank noisily. He filled the sink with water and began to wash the clothes.

Outside the covered window he could hear the neighborhood children gathering in the alley to kick stones and cans around. They laughed and talked amongst themselves but it was all Romanian so he understood little. The children were very interested in him often coming up to try to speak with him if they caught him outside, but with the language barrier he rarely could respond.

One child heard him speaking to Pup in Russian a few months back. Apparently at least one of his parents was Russian because he immediately began speaking in broken Russian. The child had told him his name was Constantin and began to ask him all sorts of questions in Russian.

He had honestly hoped to never hear anyone speak to him in Russian again, but Constantin had looked so elated he had let himself reply. After that any time Constantin saw him he would immediately begin to repeat a word in Russian followed by the Romanian translation as though set to teach him. 

It had been fine until the child accidentally stumbled onto one of the words from his trigger phrases. He had immediately left and avoided the child since. He had no question the enemy would use children to trigger him and he wasn't going to give them the chance. 

Clothes washed and hung he checked his supplies. Food was getting low again. He had only the food he was able to find or easily steal so it was always tight. He would go out the next morning before dawn and steal a few more eggs from the local farms before the farmers woke up.

He grabbed a small leather notebook and pen and sat down on the floor. Pup hopped into his bed and curled up, looking like she planned to nap now that he was settling in. She didn't stay with him every night, though he definitely slept better when she did. He hoped sometimes that someone would find her and take her in. Someone who could feed her until her ribs no longer jutted out and wash the dirt and grime from her coat. At the same time he would miss her if she was gone and hoped she never disappeared. Still, she seemed to have eyes only for him so her finding another home seemed like a slim chance.

Sleep, like the violent shocks of his past, seemed to erase things he'd remembered. Writing them down helped **.** Reading from the beginning of the journal he was still able to recite all of the memories in a long rambling disjointed poem. As he reached the newer memories he could only vaguely remember the images that fit with the words on the page. Finally, the most recent entry, dated two days ago, “Before losing my arm, I was left handed.” 

He stared at the page a long time, trying to remember what memory had lead to writing that sentence, but none came. He'd remembered something though or it wouldn't be written down. He let his head thump back against the wall.

His eyes closed and he listened as the city awoke; the sounds of cars and people growing louder. The children laughed and shouted as they played. Nearer still Pup snored softly on his bed. 

He wasn't sure how long he sat with his eyes closed, just listening. Without missions, without freezing, the world crawled by completely unaware and uncaring that he even existed.

No, he reminded himself, the world didn't care because it didn't know. If he slipped up, if he accidentally showed the world he was still there, still breathing, it would care. He would fall into custody, either to be imprisoned for crimes he never intended to commit or by captors ready to use him again. 

He was suddenly aware that the children were silent. Moving quickly and silently he grabbed a gun from his bag and moved to the door in the kitchen. He drew the curtain back just enough to see out into the street. Rain soaked the window and road. He relaxed. It was raining. The kids were inside because it was raining.

Pup, who had followed him to the door, whined softly to be let out. He set the gun down on the counter, grabbed the key off the hook, and followed her out into the alley. It was raining hard as he followed Pup to the small patch of grass in the back of the alley. He tilted his head up to let the rain wash over his face and hair. Even though the fall had been uncharacteristically warm that year the rain felt cold on his skin.

He moved to the back corner of the alley and leaned against the brick wall facing his door. The rain continued to fall quietly around them. Pup was wandering, sniffing at the grass and digging some in the softened Earth. The other end of the alley curved slightly, blocking the side road at the end from view. It's why the kids liked it and one of the reasons he'd chosen to stay here. 

He wouldn't be able to stay much longer. The money he'd paid would run out soon. He would have to either steal more or move to the streets. Stealing it would be easy, but he didn't want to go that route. He'd already done so much evil. 

As though waiting for its cue his mind began to throw up hundreds, maybe even thousands, of names and faces. Every face had one thing in common, the same glassy unblinking stare of death. He raked his hand through his long hair. Suddenly the little alcove felt tight, closing in on him. He called Pup and retreated back into the house.

The rain continued well into the night and by the time he slipped into the darkness at midnight the alley was slightly flooded due to the lack of drainage. He pulled his jacket up over his head and set off. He slipped through the darkened streets, moving out of streetlights as much as possible. A few cars were out but no one paid him much attention.

He turned off the main roads towards the farm land near the city. Once he was on to more comfortable back roads he took up a light jog. It took a solid 2 hours to get to the first of the three houses he knew had both chickens and no dog.

He turned up the long gravel drive and carefully skirted the house before coming to the small coop. He slipped inside but in the end only came out with two eggs. He tucked them into the carton he had in his jacket, locked up behind himself, and returned to the road.

The next house, about 3 miles away, he struck out completely. He took a long breath before beginning the 10 mile jog to the final house. He didn't like coming to this house. It was so much farther out than the others but it had a larger coop with more chickens and the owners seemed to check less often so he decided it was worth it.

As he neared the drive he hesitated, there were several lights on in the house. Hoping they had just been left on he moved up the winding drive, staying far out of the light. He moved past a truck and tractor as well as various farm equipment he couldn't identify in the dark. In spite of the lights, he could not hear any voices or see any movement so he continued moving between the two large barns, stopping at the door to the one on the right and slipping inside. 

Where the other two farms had less than a dozen birds each, this one had several dozen. He moved quickly and quietly and by the time he was done he had more than two dozen eggs. He paused at the door to listen. Where there had been silence before he could hear a man and a woman now, shouting. He stood, frozen, trying to determine the direction the sound came from but it seemed to echo from all sides. 

Knowing staying would do no good, he opened the door carefully. Without the heavy wood in the way it was easier to tell that the sounds came from the porch. They were yelling in Romanian, and he couldn't understand any of it. He pushed the door just wide enough to accommodate his frame and slid out, closing it behind him. The yelling did not increase nor stop. He looked carefully at the porch. A man and woman in their 30s were screaming at one another, face to face. They hadn't seen him. 

Watching them he crept back toward the fields around the house. As he turned away from the fight to focus on his footing past the barn he heard a gasp. He spun around and saw a girl, no more than 5, had just come around the second barn. He held his finger up to his mouth but it was too late, she screamed. 

He bolted for the fields as the adults yelling on the porch stopped. He sprinted flat out for miles. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs shook from the sudden strain after months of relative disuse and malnutrition. He could not stop. He could not be captured, never again. 

When the city came into view as the first whispers of pink began to tint the sky he finally slowed. His legs shook with every step. He moved to the back roads and alleys, staying away from the prying eyes of anyone else who might be out in the crisp morning air. 

He immediately made for a baker near the house that was known for leaving out too old bread for the poor. He arrived right as the man went inside and grabbed two loaves for himself and one that had started to mold that Pup could eat. He went to a trash can behind a butcher’s as well, finding some meat that was only slightly turned. 

He made it home as the first rays of true sunlight broke the horizon. Unlocking the door he slipped inside. Pup's whole body wiggled with excitement. He threw the meat on the floor as he came in and Pup gobbled it up. 

After setting the bread and eggs on the counter he collapsed onto the floor, leaning back against the wall. Pup curled up against his legs, her head on his thigh. He sat listening to the city as it woke, barely breathing as he listened for the thud of boots approaching. He'd failed, been seen, maybe even been recognized. As the morning faded to afternoon and the afternoon to night he let himself breathe. 

If he'd been followed even the most coordinated attack would have happened by now. They wouldn't let him wait a day and perhaps slip out of their grasp.

He started to move when a voice clear as day rang through his mind. _Mission report?_

He went still. He knew he could ignore it, knew the voice had no way to zap him with a stun baton or strike him across the jaw but the longer he remained silent the more uncomfortable his body became until it was like being trapped all over again. He spoke into the empty room.

“Mission report. Mission status: Failure. Multiple witnesses left alive. Asset report:...” He closed his eyes, focusing for the first time since his return home on the pain he felt. His arm whirred and hummed softly, recalibrating. “Multiple small lacerations. All systems green. Injury to right foot, potential sprained ankle. No maintenance required. Mission report complete.”

As the last words left his mouth he was able to breathe again. He opened his eyes and examined the injuries he'd mentioned in the report no one could hear. Mostly scuffs and cuts from running through fields and trees. His ankle was swollen and purple, definitely sprained.

Using the wall he stood, careful to not over strain the injury. He drank through three glasses of water while standing at the sink. He refilled Pup's bowl and grabbed himself a few slices of bread. He tossed a few pieces from the moldy loaf to Pup then collapsed into the bed. 

Pup finished her bread and climbed onto the mattress with him. He let his eyes close and darkness swallowed him.

November 2

He work up early the next morning. Pup was laying pressed against his side, her head on his stomach. He scratched behind her ears and she stretched long and slow before heading to the door to be let out.

He sat up and turned a more attentive eye to his ankle. It was swollen and purple just as the night before. How long had he run on it after injuring it, he wondered. The pain hadn't been severe enough. Just a blip of discomfort. Not enough to distract from the mission, get food and get home safe.

He sighed and stood, careful to keep weight off it. Malnutrition seemed to slow his healing down to almost that of a normal human which meant he'd be laid up for a least a day or two depending on how bad the sprain was. He used the wall as a crutch to move to the door. It was quiet outside, raining again. 

He stepped out and leaned heavily on the bricks outside letting the rain wash over him. Pup ran a few laps up and down the alley then came to stand next to him, her tongue sticking out.

Back inside he grabbed a smaller bag out of the military duffle and sat against the wall. He pulled out a pack of specialized screwdrivers and rested his left arm on his knee. Starting at his hand he moved the first plate into maintenance mode.

Manipulating the individual plates in the first decade he had the arm had been done during the resets. The massive electrical current to his brain had the added benefit of setting the arm into maintenance. He remembered the first time he'd removed the plates himself. All the scientists stood watching. They had still wiped him that day even though it wasn't required but after that the maintenance had been in part left up to him.

With the panel shifted up it was easy enough to see twelve tiny screws. Each screw needed to be removed in a specific order; an order burned into his mind over the decades. One screw out of order and the arm would lock down and melt, erasing any hint of its design as it went. 

With the panel lifted the flexible almost clothlike vibranium that kept knives and dirt alike out of the inner structure of the arm was visible. He loosened each screw, then carefully pulled away the panel.

It was excruciatingly painful to remove the panels, like peeling back flesh to expose muscle and bone. He assumed they did this to deter him from removing them himself but the pain was familiar, almost comfortable. This pain should happen. Briefing, mission, maintenance. 

He worked slowly closing and tightening the inner workings, ensuring nothing was twisted or pinched. After each section he re-attached the panel and set it back into place. 

He opened the main panel on his inner arm. As he moved to set the panel aside an intense pain shot through his shoulder. He went completely still. Out of his peripheral vision he could see a красная линия, a red line, had come loose from its housing. With each thud of his heart the line bounced ever so slightly causing the stab of pain in his shoulder.

Moving carefully he set down the panel. His right hand, trembling slightly from the pain and from the delicacy required, moved the red line back towards his shoulder and the immediate pain subsided. He waited there for the sharp stabbing pain in his shoulder to fade.

About 10 years ago, when the most recent of his arms had been created, the doctor had added the red lines. Using blood and air rather than hydraulic fluid had completely eliminated the need to break the arm down to flush out and top off the fluids used before. The red lines all linked together at the severed brachial artery in his shoulder. His blood flowed through sterile tubes into the hydraulic points in his arm then back out the other side and into his body. When it was needed some of the blood would be trapped in the points as used as hydraulic fluid. Other lines picked up the slack and kept the blood flowing.

It had taken 4 years of trial and error, to determine how to best run the lines to make it work, to verify his heart could handle the stain, and to be sure his body could filter out the impurities picked up on the trip through tubes and back. More than once tests had failed, his heart stopped, but they always brought him right back. 

Pulling himself back to reality he carefully guided the tube back to its housing. Each time it was jostled even a bit the stabbing pain where the tube was bonded to blood vessel made him freeze but after several long moments it was locked back into the thin metal groove made for it.

The doctors had talked about a fail safe, something to stop him from bleeding out if the arm was ever ripped off but he didn't know if they had installed it. Maybe someday he would test it.

Reattaching the plate on his inner arm he worked up plate by plate, re-affixing the red line clear up to the connection point at his shoulder. He paused to look at the point where the tubing entered his skin. He knew that less than an inch in the tubing became vein. It had taken weeks for his body to accept the integrated tissue which held the tubing in place. 

He checked carefully around the vein to ensure the connections to the muscle and bone were still set and stable. It wasn't anything that needed checking. He knew because of hair thin wires that connected the arm to his nerves so that he could feel when larger issues like muscle and bone were failing. Without the handlers he had no way to repair it even if it was severely damaged.

Re-attaching the shoulder plate he did a quick calibration test moving all the plates out for maximum ventilation and movement speed then locked them all tight for strength. Each plate moved seamlessly.

Satisfied, he retrieved the notebook and sat once more. He ran through the memories tied to each line he had written. At least they didn't seem to be degrading. He stared at the last line. When had he last written something before this book. 

He was in the barracks. Men talked around him as he wrote. His pen was held easily is his left hand. Who was he writing to? Immediately an image of the blonde haired blue eyed man from the Helicarrier. He pushed the thought away. _Who had he been writing to?_ Again the image of the man appeared. 

He could hear the plates in his arm tick as frustration bubbles in his chest. Again pushing back the image, he tried to focus on remembering what he'd been writing. He'd thought over each line carefully. Couldn't reveal too much and have the letter’s recipient worry. Good, who was the recipient? The man's face was back. 

He hurled the leather journal across the room. The book opened, slowing its path dramatically and it hit the ground with a highly unsatisfying whump a few feet away. 

Taking a slow breath he started trying to remember. Since his mind was _so_ focused on the man in the Helicarrier he focused on that memory instead. He'd been sent to stop the man from jeopardizing the Helicarrier launch. 

They had fought. He clearly remembered the other man being strong, almost evenly matched. He had failed the mission to stop him from preventing the launch so he had moved to phase two, eliminate target. But then he had been trapped, heavy metal debris pinning him. The man had come over, freed him.

He remembered squaring off with him and he had spoken. He could see his mouth moving but the sound of his voice, his words, were like white noise in his skull. He'd called him something, something that had made him remember something but now sitting on the floor of his home he could remember none of it.

It didn't matter, he'd eliminated the target. The man had fallen out of the Helicarrier. He'd followed and still had minor injuries. After that he remembered being in Bucharest and not much else.

Why did that face keep coming up in his mind then? Final target, kept fresh due to the lack of a wipe after. Had to be.

Pushing his hand through his hair he collected the book and returned it to its spot on the shelf. He checked the supplies he had and made a plan to visit the store early tomorrow morning. He was getting low on the soap he used to clean clothes and dishes. 

It was not late enough to sleep but he felt exhausted. He laid down and Pup immediately crowded in against him, her head resting on his stomach. He ran his hand over her head, feeling the softness of her fur against the metal of his fingers. He wondered absently if she ever noticed the difference in his arms. If so she'd never shown it. 

He closed his eyes and listened to the distant noises of the city. The rain splashed quietly outside. Pup was falling asleep, her head resting heavier on his stomach. 

November 3

He jerked upright, arm whirring and clicking as all the plates locked down, ready to fight. Jumping up he swung again at the shadow just a few feet away but hit nothing. His breath coming in heaves he searched the room. The shadow that had been standing over him had dissipated. 

He scrubbed his hand over his face. He could hear orders jumbled and loud in his mind. What was his mission now? Why couldn't he remember? He moved to the sink and washed the sweat away. 

The cold water on his heated skin seemed to bring him back. Immediately he was aware he'd walked on his sprained ankle which hurt all the worse for it. He returned to bed and sat. Pup moved over, looking nervous. He'd scared her when he jumped awake. 

He pet her softly, murmuring quietly. His voice sounded like gravel, like first coming out of the freeze. Current mission: _stay alive and stay free,_ he reminded himself. 

Moving to the window he looked out past the curtains. Still pitch black. He opened the door and quickly slipped out, leaving Pup inside. He moved into the middle of the alley, his eyes on the sky. Locating the moon he determined the sun would begin to peek over the horizon soon. No reason to return to bed. He let Pup out for her morning run around the alley before heading back inside to prepare for the walk into town.

He moved to his bag and pulled out a roll of medical wrap. Carefully he stabilized his ankle as much as he could. It would still be painful to walk on and still aggravate the injury but it should help.

As the first light of dawn slipped through his window he pulled on a jacket, zipped it closed and pulled the hood low over his head. Leaving Pup inside he locked the door and began the walk to the store. It was getting cool enough that no one really noticed him wearing his jacket and moving silently towards town. He would have to figure out something for next summer. The jacket did more to make people look at him than it did shield him from attention in the summer.

By the time he reached Piaţa Progresul the sun had fully come up and the area was busy with people coming and going. He moved casually through the crowd, making sure to not bump anyone as he moved. The jacket may cover the metal of his arm but it did nothing to prevent it feeling like metal if someone ran into it.

As he moved through the market he slowed his pace to match those around him, pausing to look at the different shops he passed. He knew already what most of the owners sold, and he had no money for anything outside his objective but he blended better this way. A few people tried to show him sometime if they caught him looking but were easily deterred.

Once he made it to the correct shop he grabbed the soap he needed and stepped into line. The woman who owned the shop was finishing helping an older man. She said goodbye to the man then turned to him.

“Hey!” she said in English. She always seemed so happy. He appreciated that she seemed to remember the preferred language of the people who bought from her regularly.

“Hey.” He said back, handing the bag over. 

“Haven't seen you. Everything good?” She asked. 

He handed her the cash before replying. “Yeah, been good. Busy as always,” he commented.

She smiled, “I try. Change in bag?”

He nodded.

“See you soon. Don't stay gone so long!”

As he turned away he heard her slide easily into Romanian to address whoever had been behind him. He moved a bit quicker now. Ready to be out of the crowd now that his mission was wrapping up.

Outside the world was starting to wake up and come to shop but the streets were still fairly empty. The only person near him was an elderly woman walking along his left side, laden down with shopping. As she moved to turn down a side street she slipped on some mud from the previous days of rain and began to fall.

Before he even realized it was happening, his left hand shot out and caught her under the arm keeping her stable. Her hand braced on his sleeve. Adrenaline flushed through him as the only thing between her hand and his arm was the fabric of his jacket. If she noticed the arm she held was anything outside of the ordinary she didn't comment.

Once she was stable he released her carefully.

“Oh bless you.” She said, her accent British. “My husband just broke his hip last week. If I had fallen too I don't know how we would have made it.” She paused. “You probably don't understand a word I'm saying. A strong man like yourself, probably Romanian.”

He stayed quiet. If she thought he couldn't understand her that suited him just fine. 

“Still, I have to repay you somehow. Here. You look like you need these more than I do.” She handed him two of the bags she had been carrying. Patting his shoulder she said, “Thank you again.” Then she turned and walked away.

As soon as she rounded the corner he opened the bags, quickly checking the contents. Nothing seemed like a likely hiding spot for a bomb or tracking device. He moved down a few back streets before stopping in a back doorway to check everything properly. 

The bags contained chicken stock, ground beef, pork shoulder, peanut butter, 4 large potatoes, a bag of pasta, and some kind of cheese. He checked the contents over carefully. The cheese was wrapped in cloth and could have something set deep into it so he left it there on the ground. The rest were still in sealed packages and there were no cuts or punctures in the packaging so he deemed them safe to bring home.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, before the voices in his mind could even ask, he spoke to the empty room. “Mission report: Mission successful. Asset report: No injuries sustained. Mission report complete.”

Feeling the oxygen return to his lungs, he spread the contents of the bags out on the counter and checked each one meticulously for any holes in the seams of the seals. Satisfied they were safe he stored away the food. He decided to cook the beef that night, the rest he would figure out later. No way of knowing if or when the mission might require him to leave. It was best to not make plans.

He settled at his spot on the floor and began to maintain his arm. He moved quickly, there was nothing of note to do. Still, he had left the house, that meant maintenance was needed. 

Once that was done he collected the beef and cooked it in a pan. He gave half to Pup before eating his own. He ended up giving her a large amount of his portion too when it proved too much to eat. He closed his eyes as a new memory popped in his mind.

He was sitting at a table. People all around were talking, laughing. There were three girls there, younger girls, siblings? A woman sat at the table too. He recognized her immediately, Mom. He looked around, someone sat next to him but he couldn't see. It was like a picture torn in half, the room just turned to black. He looked back at the girls, his mom. Had he had sisters? They looked like her, same eyes, same smiles, they had to be his sisters. 

The table was laden high with food. He felt too full. He heard himself joke that someone would have to roll him to bed because he couldn't possibly stand. Laughter all around. The person he couldn't see was speaking. He didn't know how, but he knew they were, a sound like quiet radio static that made his stomach do flips. 

Then the woman was speaking, her voice soft and gentle like the sound of rain outside his window at night. He opened his mouth to reply and suddenly it was Zola sitting across from him. 

“The conditioning is starting to fade. You can't let him be out of freeze this long. Wipe him and freeze him.” 

He watched Zola stand. He was chained to a table, metal and concrete, the air thick with the smell of mildew. As Zola moved away he attempted to lunge at him. The chain round his neck pulled him short. 

A fist came out of nowhere and clocked him hard in the cheek. He fell and a boot slammed into his ribs, another in the spine.

As the blows rained down man approached and spoke in thick Russian, “Longing… Rusted…”

He heard himself scream. He was standing. He was in his house. He was alone save Pup who was watching him closely. His whole body was shaking. He moved to his bed and sat trying to bring his breathing back under control.

His left arm came to rest on his leg and he jumped. It was burning hot. It had locked down into combat mode at some point and had not been able to vent. He relaxed the plates and felt the soft whoosh of heat as cool air flowed in.

He remained still on the floor for several minutes before standing and moving to the sink to wash up. He discarded his clothes which were drenched in sweat, grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed himself clean. He bent over, washing his hair and face in the sink as well. He checked his arm. It was still very warm to the touch. He locked in the plates so that it was water tight then ran it under the cool water. The metal was warm enough to hiss slightly but cooled rapidly under the water.

He retrieved different clothes from his bag and dressed before returning to the sink to wash what he'd been wearing. Once the clothes were hung up he grabbed the notebook off the counter, sat down and wrote out his memories. 

It was slow going but eventually the memory of his family was down on paper along with the knowledge he'd had siblings. It was strange to realize he'd forgotten them. Still, even now he couldn't remember what they looked like in the memory or how their voices sounded. Even their names. Not that it mattered. They were gone. Everyone he'd known was gone. The years having swallowed them up like nothing. 

His mom too, he thought sadly. Gone into the abyss. She had been kind. He knew that. He wondered if she ever knew what they had done to him. What he had done. Images of glassy eyed faces ripped through his mind. He had never been a religious man but in that moment he prayed to any God who may be listening that she died not knowing what he did.

November 14

The next two weeks continued a comfortable rhythm. Wake up, change clothes, wash himself and his clothes from the day before, eat, then settle in with his notebook and try to remember. Some days he sat for hours waiting and trying with no success while other days the memories wouldn't stop coming.

He focused on trying to remember more about his sisters and his mother. He remembered easily that his father had died when he was young, though the circumstances around it were hazy.

There seemed to be chunks of time missing, all centered around talking to people, but this was still more than he'd remembered since his last wipe so he cared little.

Each memory ended with Zola,and some torture. He wasn't remembering the actual memories but instead times he'd remembered them during his training. That much was clear. Each new memory came with a new punishment for remembering but remembering the pain was worth each new memory. He wrote only the good memories in his notebook. Never anything with Zola. Zola didn't deserve to be written down. 

He woke up early that morning. He needed to pick up bread. He had been making due without but the donated food was beginning to dwindle and he needed to begin to prepare for a bread and eggs diet again. Pup had put on a tiny bit of weight with the variety of food she'd been getting. Hopefully she could hold it once things were back to normal.

He pulled his jacket on well before dawn and slipped out. He wanted to get to the baker's as he finished leaving out the bread so he could get home before it was too busy. The morning was cold, more so than normal, though it was mid November. He made sure the plates on his arm were open wide before setting out. It was cool enough and his jacket restricted airflow enough that unless the plates were open as wide as possible his arm would begin to heat the air around it much like his breath did with each exhale, making visible clouds of heated air. People tended to notice when that happened and not in a good way. 

The walk to the baker's was quick and easy. His ankle had finished healing which made progress much quicker. He arrived a few minutes early and hung back, letting the man finish putting out the bread before slipping over and grabbing the two for him and one for Pup. 

He tried a different route home. It was one he'd scouted a few times that seemed like it may be quicker and less populated. It had one road, near the train, that was busy but the rest were back roads.

Predictably he saw no one until he got near the station. He moved carefully through the crowd as people began their morning commute. He was almost past when he heard, “грузовой вагон”.

_Freight car._ He shook off the feeling of panic. He was near the damn train station. It made sense that— “Девять”, “Один”. 

Before he even knew it, he was running, sprinting full out through the crowd of people. His hood slid off his face but he didn't care. He couldn't be captured. They wouldn't find him. He took more than a dozen extra twists and turns getting home but he was certain he wasn't followed. 

Once inside he locked the door tight behind him, threw off his jacket, practically shouted the mission report into the empty room then collapsed shaking against the wall. His body hurt. Even with just a few off the trigger words and in the wrong order his muscles were struggling to comply, to prepare for orders. He felt physically ill. He wrapped his arms around his knees, his head dropping down as he focused on breathing.

On the other side of the world a phone rang. A man answered, “What's up?”

A woman's voice replied, “We found him.”

“Where?”

“Bucharest.”

“On my way.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is found. Panic attacks and flashbacks ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

November 23

It took more than a week for him to settle back into his rhythm of eating and trying to remember. The panic seemed to have dramatically slowed the new memories. He was lucky to get one or so a day instead of them being back to back. 

Instead his nights played host to a literal myriad of new nightmares. Punishment, he decided for too many good days. He scrubbed his face as the last one faded away. Zola asking questions after a wipe. The answers to the questions had come so easy then but in the dream each time he had replied his words were like white noise in his mind, he could no longer remember the answers to the questions. He repeated Zola’s questions to himself. “What is your name? Where are you from? What are your family's names? What is the name of your best friend?” Nothing came, no reply no memories, just the vast emptiness in his mind where those memories belonged. 

He got up, checked the food supplies then dropped to his spot on the wall. He and Pup were back to bread and eggs and their eggs were running low. He would need to go out soon and get more eggs. He let his head drop against the wall with a soft thump. They had enough chicken broth and noodles to last a bit longer on soup but soon that would run out too. There was still at least half a jar of peanut butter left at least. Any source of protein helped.

He would go that night for eggs, he decided. He had not been out except into the alley with Pup since going near the train yard. As he sat in the hours after he knew it had been foolish to run. Just as he had been near the station so freight car made sense so did hearing one and nine. Train numbers, platform numbers, arrival and departure times. People all over had been speaking numbers, he had just let panic get to him. A red mark on the mission. 

He didn't eat that morning, instead giving Pup his portion. Her ribs were returning. He knew she was going hungry but he also had no way of getting enough food to maintain her weight. She curled up on his lap, her form too large to stay on his legs so she spilled over him onto the floor but she seemed comfortable. He ran his fingers over her short coat. He kept her inside with him as the days grew colder and the wind more fierce. She had no way of staying warm outside. Not that it was dramatically warmer inside but at least the wind was blocked. 

He sat with the notebook, going over each of the memories he had written then trying without success to think of anything else. Zola's questions seemed to pound through his mind, blocking out anything else he could think of. He tried ignoring them, he tried answering then, but nothing seemed to make a difference in the questions looping over and over in his mind. 

He was more than happy to hop up when Pup asked out. He threw on his jacket and leaned in the alley letting her run off some steam. He went still, a faint buzz catching his ear. A small drone was flying nearby. He called Pup quickly and edging along the wall to stay as hidden as possible he slipped back inside. 

He remained inside the rest of the day, listening. He never heard the drone again nor the sounds of soldiers or police. If they sent a drone in they may be narrowing down his location. 

He delayed getting eggs an extra two days. Once he used the last two he knew he'd have to get more. He briefly considered forgetting going for eggs and living on the peanut butter but he pushed that idea aside. Chickens laid fewer eggs in the winter and they would need something besides bread to live on as the weather continued to grow colder.

He left in the dead of night and began his walk into the country. He heard no drones and saw no one as he walked. It was well below freezing. No one was out for the fun of it. He saw a few homeless as he walked, but they all slept soundly as he passed, piled deep under rags and blankets. He decided to avoid the first two farms and go immediately to the farthest out. If last year was any indication the hens at the two smaller farms would have few or no eggs.

In the distance he saw a set of headlights growing close but he had ample time to move to the side of the road and hide in the trees before it could see him. As he approached the house he was relieved to see all the lights off. As he approached the barn he saw something resting on the ground by the door. He slowed trying to determine what it could be in the near darkness. It wasn't hard enough lines to be a weapon. Kneeling cautiously he was able to see a piece of paper with writing set on top of the other things. He took the paper and moved behind the two buildings where the moon shone brighter. It had several lines of typed writing, each a different language. The third line down was in English ‘If you need help, just knock, we can help you.” A few more lines down was the same sentence in Russian then again in German.

Frowning he returned to the items on the ground. Closer examination showed a loaf of bread and two dozen eggs. He looked up towards the house. All was still dark. He transferred the eggs into his own cartens and left the bread and note. He moved back to the road and started the walk home.

He saw no people or cars on the walk back and reached town before the horizon even began to lighten. There were still a few people up and around in the pre-dawn. The town seemed to sleep rarely. 

A sudden feeling in the pit of his stomach made his pulse jump. He was being tailed. He dropped his pace down and distantly another set of footsteps echoed the change. He continued to move slowly until he reached an alley he knew, he turned still going slow then as soon as he was fully around the bend took off at a sprint. After half a dozen tight turns he was back in the main road. He could no longer hear whoever was following.

He took an extra hour getting home do that he could dart through several more alleys. Once home he bolted the door shut. He would have to move. There were no other options. As soon as the markets opened he would buy a few necessities and go. 

He looked over at Pup. He could try to leave her here but she would follow, he knew she would. And if she didn't follow then who would feed her? It was almost winter, she couldn't be out in the cold. He added rope for a dog lead into his list of shopping. 

Moving quickly he gathered everything around his bag and took a quick inventory. He needed matches, fishing line if he could find it, more ace wrap and duct tape, and probably electrical tape too. He sharpened his knife and axe, made sure his hand gun was loaded, then packed everything away in his bag. 

The clothes from last night were still wet enough they would have to stay but the rest was ready. He cooked six of the eggs and ate as much as he could before giving Pup the rest as well as a good portion of her bread. As soon as he heard the kids outside playing he left for the shops. 

He was not followed on the way there but the shops were crowded which made listening for threats difficult. He did not try to blend in today. He moved to the shops he know may have what he needed, picked the items and paid as quickly as he could. 

On the way home he took several wrong turns and doubled back a few times but no one followed. He heard the kids in the alley as he approached. If they were still outside no one would have broken in. They wouldn't have stayed. Instead they were laughing and chattering to each other. He rounded the bend and went towards his door when a man spoke. “Hey.”

He spun, his hand closing on his knife. A man had been knelt by the kids talking to them but now he stood to full height. He recognized him, his final target. How was he alive? But there he stood, looking completely uninjured, like nothing had happened. 

“You died.” He said to the target. His eyes caught the other man's bright blue eyes and immediately panic exploded in his chest. Pain flared through his body, and he almost dropped his knife. The target moved and he forced his mind back to the present he drew the blade and held it between them, ready to fight.

The target immediately held up both hands, “Hey, hey. I'm just here to talk.” He said, his voice felt like lightning in his mind, sharp pops like the stun gun against his temple. “Let's go inside.” The target spoke again, his eyes glancing to the door and back. “I'm unarmed, you can check.” the target said taking a quick step forward. He jumped back, watching the target warily. “Easy,” the man spoke again. “Just going to the wall.”

The target moved to stand hands on the brick. He moved behind him, placed the tip of his blade on the targets neck and pressed in. He should kill him now, finish the mission, but he heard movement behind him. The kids had not left. They would scream, alert authorities. Perhaps inside would be better. He could get his gun as well if the target disarmed him.

He quickly checked the target for weapons. It wasn't hard, the man wore only a long sleeved cotton shirt and jeans, nowhere to hide a weapon. Keeping the tip of the knife pressing in on the targets spine he dropped down to check around the target’s boots. Standing again he noticed a cell phone in the target’s hand. Pulling it away he used his free hand to grip the target’s shoulder and firmly guided him to the door.

Unlocked and opened he guided the target inside and shut and locked the door. Pup wiggled happily up to him, completely unconcerned about the other man in the room. He pushed hard enough to knock the target off balance. “Wall.” He commanded, then moved quickly to deposit the phone and grab his gun.

The target went as directed but turned to face him. He wanted to face his death? Fine. He stood gun and trained on the man. “Woah. Bucky, hey.” the target spoke.

At the sound of the target’s words sheer panic washed over him. Behind it pain licked at all if his senses all at once. Memories came rushing back hundreds upon hundreds all at once all of them whispering, speaking, screaming  _ Bucky.  _ He couldn't draw in breath, his vision swam as memories tried to push in cover his eyes. 

He was shaking, the gun was now pointing several inches over the targets shoulder but he couldn't seem to get his aim set back. The target was speaking, adding to the tidal wave of voices threatening to drown him. “Shut up!” He shouted, struggling to be heard over the noise.

“No.” The target said sounding angry, “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. We-”

The voices were getting louder, screaming over each other to be heard. He had to kill the target, he started this. If he was gone it would end it had to end. He tried again to aim but he was shaking too much. Through all the noise the target spoke, his voice barely audible in the din. “Stop!” He shouted, not sure if he spoke to the target or the voices now.

He took aim and fired. Three shots rang out and the memories and sound and pain ceased. He dropped to one knee, his whole body still shaking. Pup was pressed in on him whimpering. He looked at her, concerned not injured, he determined. 

Suddenly and urgently he was aware that was about to be ill. He shot to the sink and threw up breakfast. Once his stomach was empty he continued to throw up bile. When he finally felt stable he braced against the sink and turned.

The target stood exactly where he'd left him. All three shots had missed making a line moving away from his shoulder at roughly heart level. He pulled the gun up to aim again. He had to finish the mission.

“Hey. I didn't come here to hurt you. I told you I just want to talk.” The target looked worried now. Still he had been weak, given ample opportunity to be killed, and the man stayed on the wall. 

“Don't.” He told him. The target fell quiet. Pushing himself off the sink he moved across the room to stand on the opposite wall from the man. He dropped back against the wall. He felt completely drained, his muscles were shaking with the effort of remaining standing. More than anything he wanted the man to leave. Leave or kill him and be done with it. His whole body hurt like he'd been through retraining. He wouldn't have been shocked to look down and see his flesh purple and black from the bruises.

Pup, apparently having decided he was ok, made her way carefully over to the target. He dropped down slowly, those bright blue eyes watching him. “Hey sweet girl.” the target spoke, his voice quiet, a hand reaching out to pet Pup. Realizing the man was friendly Pup's whole body squirmed as she crawled into his lap.

He closed his eyes. After retraining they had always at least let him sleep. He could feel it chewing at him. Maybe he could fall asleep against the wall. But if the target was here to capture not kill. He couldn't go back. His eyes snapped back open. 

Across the room the target was still petting Pup but the blue eyes watched him closely. “I'm going to get a glass of water.” The target said. Holding both hands up the target moved across the room to the kitchen. 

From his spot on the wall he could clearly see the other man get two glasses down, fill both and move back into the room. He approached slowly, and held out the other glass. 

Reaching up he took the offered glass and the other man returned to the wall. He studied the glass that had been handed to him. Nothing pointed to any poison, plus he had watched the target make it. He drained the cup then set it aside.

“Do you remember me at all?” The target spoke.

Perhaps he was here for interrogation. Be kind, ask questions. Still he answered, “You died. I killed you.”

The target stared at him for a long time. “You pulled me out of the water. Otherwise yeah, I would be dead.”

His head pounded. He wouldn't have. Couldn't remember. Just blackness. 

The target was speaking again, his voice low and soft. “I came to help you. The people who did this, who hurt you, I've spent the last few years tracking then all down and eliminating them so you would be safe. I came to bring you home.” 

“I have no home.” He knew that answer well enough. It was the one that didn't get him wiped or zapped or hit.

“Yes you do. Bucky--”

Anything else the target said was lost as another roll of pain and memories slammed into him and blackness rolled over his eyes. 

The sound of the targets voice drew him back to consciousness. 

“Yeah I'm here with him now.”

Then another voice, female and distorted slightly. “You're with him now? How is it going?”

“Terrible Nat. I know you said my name would probably be a trigger but I think his is too.”

“It would make sense. They would want to be sure to erase everything that made him him. Try to avoid saying it for now. I—”

“He's coming around.” And the distinctive sound of a cell phone call ending.

He forced himself to stand, gun back up. He'd told someone about him, let them know about a trigger, he had to die. But first he had to know, “Who did you talk to?”

The target looked hesitant. “I'm not sure that's a good idea. We are 2 for 2 on names today and I don't want you to have that happen again. Maybe--”

“Name. Now.” He said. 

The target took a slow breathe and spoke haltingly. “Natasha Romanoff. Nat.” He paused as though waiting then continued, “You, you fought her when you fought me, in New York. You knew her before too. She was trained in the Red Room? She said you were there? I have a picture of her on my phone if you want?” 

“Show me.” His voice sounded like gravel. The target navigated through the phone then handed it over. The picture brought back only a few memories, all from the Red Room. He had only trained the White Wolf project but he had seen the Black Widows in training too and remembered her. At least now he knew who the next target was.

His current company was speaking again. “She was able to get away, to break free from all that. We want to help you do the same. Finally be free, be safe. But you gotta let us help.” After several quiet moments he spoke again. “Your dog is really sweet. What's her name?” He waited then. The silence stretched between them. Finally he spoke again. “Umm, is your arm ok?”

He looked down, the plates were grinding together softly. He was drained of enough energy he could no longer properly control the plates. He lifted the gun again and cocked it. He needed to finish the mission. Needed to do maintenance, needed to sleep. His aim was steady now but as his finger rested on the trigger he  _ couldn't. _

Letting out a shout of frustration he drew back and punched the target in the chest with all the force he could draw. It barely pushed him back. 

“Get out!” He shouted. 

“I'm not leaving. If you need to shoot me then do it but I'm not leaving without you.”

He felt himself sway a bit. His left arm was feeling heavier and heavier.

“Go and sleep. I'll keep watch.” The target said, and in that moment he was too tired to fight, so he let himself comply.

November 24

He woke with a groan. Everything hurt, retraining, maybe wiped too? What had he done?

‘Failed a mission. Mission failure is never an option’ he heard Zola's words, so close by. Maybe finally close enough he could choke the life out of the twisted man. 

Then farther away a new voice, “hey pal you awake?” 

His eyes snapped open and he rolled to a stand his eyes searching wildly for his gun. Grabbing it he pointed it back at the source of the voice. 

“I will take that as a yes.” The target, still in his house. He had talked about keeping watch. He was still talking, “I got stuff to cook. Do you still like berries?” Ignoring the gun trained on him the target walked into the kitchen and picked up a sealed package and held it out to him. Hesitantly he took the package. The target returned to the kitchen, speaking again. “I also got some food for your dog. Hope that's ok. I am getting ready to cook bacon and sausage too if you're hungry after the berries.”

His eyes scanned the room and settled on a bag of food resting against a wall. He wouldn't read the bag but it had a picture of a dog on the front. Looking around he saw Pup curled up on the foot of the bed, her stomach rounded out..

He turned his attention to the package in his hands. Carefully he opened it to see an assortment of berries something stirred in the back of his mind. He ate one and immediately a memory slid through his mind. It was short and only one which was good, his head was pounding. He had been in a room, his bedroom sitting and talking with someone as they ate through package after package of berries. The pop of juice tasted like heaven. He ate another, reveling in the taste.

He moved to the wall and sat, gun still in his hand though he wasn't aiming it now. “Why are you here?” He asked. His throat hurt. Had he cried out in the night? 

The target paused in his cooking. “I could tell you, but it might cause what happened last night when I was talking and I don't want to hurt you.”

He waited and eventually the target spoke again. “You and I we were best friends growing up, before the war I mean. We were inseparable for a lot of years. Then we found each other in the military too. We formed a group together to take down Hydra but then we assumed you were dead and I was frozen for 70 years while Hydra I guess kept you doing missions.” He trailed off then started again “The point is you're my friend and if I had done more maybe Hydra and everything that happened would have never been. I care about you and I want to help you B--pal.”

Any memories the target had been worried about sparking remained firmly locked in the void of his mind. “Frozen?”

“Yeah. There was an accident. I was frozen. They found me and thawed me out. It was crazy, waking up after so long. Everything had changed.”

That he understood. Each time he was thawed new people, new machines, new missions. “Your name?” 

The target completely stopped moving now. “I...I can't. Nat and I have guessed that my name is probably a massive trigger, worse than yesterday. I don't want to hurt you plus I'm not sure your body could handle it. I'm sorry.” 

He considered those words for a moment. The man wasn't wrong. Without his healing he wasn't sure his body could withstand it either. The target picked up two plates of food and set one down in front of him before moving to the chair and sitting down. The man had explored a bit then since that chair had been set in the closet. He had fully intended to ignore whatever food the other man had cooked but as he sat with the plate in front of him the warm smells wafting up over him changed his mind. 

He reached down and picked up a piece of bacon. The first bite brought waves of memories but nothing like yesterday. These memories were gentle and warm. Meals with family, talking, laughter. He finished all the food on the plate as well as the berries. When the target moved suddenly he jerked the gun back up to train on him but the man simply collected the plates and took them to the sink. He washed them, put them away then returned to the chair.

He quickly learned unless eating the target wasn't big on silence. At first his head pounded as the man talked about more and more people he'd never heard of, Tony, Bruce, Clint, but after awhile he gave up trying to follow and let the sound of his words roll over him. He would focus from time to time, always finding the man on a different topic ‘and the cows were…’, ‘the water was so cold but…’, ‘best tacos in New York.’ 

It wasn't unpleasant, hearing his voice. It filled the room with a low murmur, filling the silence and washing over him. The plates on his arm ground against each other making a metallic groan. The calibration was completely off. He needed to do maintenance. 

The longer he sat listening and trying to ignore it the more uncomfortable he became. While the food was amazing he needed to change, wash, calibrate his arm and none of that he could do with the man there. The plates slid against each other popping as the got caught, trying to find some correct calibration. 

Just as his skin began to crawl there was a loud knock at the door. He was on his feet in an instant, gun trained on the target.  _ Reinforcements _ . That's why the target had been talking so much, to distract him while he waited for back up. He cocked the gun but the knock came again, this time with a voice, “Аренда, открыть.”

He knew the voice. It was the man who came to collect rent. “Sit.” He told the target before pulling his jacket on and zipping it. He opened the door and stepped outside. The man held out an expectant hand. “No rent. I'm leaving.”

The man glared. “You have 1 week.”

“Two.” He replied. The man glared for several moments before huffing. 

“Fine. Two.” And he turned and left.

He returned inside and went to his bag. He couldn't ignore the maintenance. He could ignore changing and washing but the sounds his arm was making were not good sounds. Grabbing the box he pulled the jacket off, then his shirt and sat back on the wall. 

“Everything ok?” The man asked quietly.

“Don't stand. I will shoot.” He said before setting the gun on the floor next to him, easily reached by his right hand. The man was silent, watching as he removed each plate. For this bad of a calibration issue they all needed to come off at the same time. 

The target was obedient, remaining seated and quiet as he worked. It was a sharp change from the constant stream of consciousness less than 10 minutes ago. Several of the hydraulics had been locked out of alignment. He carefully worked to set them back. One on his shoulder was particularly stubborn. After the third attempt the man spoke again, “need help?”

He didn't answer, just snapped the gun up and took aim. “Message received.” The man said, sounding frustrated but he didn't move to stand.

Setting the gun back down he tried again. It took another two tries before things lined up properly and he was able to fully control the sections the plates slid on. He checked the red lines but none of them were out of place. Setting the plate in his shoulder he worked down his arm.

By the time he was at his fingers he was starting to feel tired. The combination of stress and pain was wearing his body down fast. The warm weight of food in his belly didn't help. 

The man was talking again he noticed. The warm sound of his voice washing over him. Once the last screw was set he ran the plates through each of the configurations, making sure nothing caught or grinded. Satisfied he leaned back on the wall, a hand on his gun. 

Focusing on the man's voice he realized he was talking about the war. Not the battles but the troops, the barracks, the safety briefings, it was all so familiar. He knew he was in the war, had memories of it. As the man began talking about the hells of Basic he let his head rest back against the wall.

His body jumped, the sharp pain in his side from the stun gun faded with the dream. The man wasn't talking, he heard movement to his left in the kitchen. He jumped up, taking aim, finger on the trigger. 

“Hey. I didn't know how hungry you would be so I'm making sandwiches. You want a few?” The man asked, turning to look at him. 

He hesitated, not sure how he should respond. If he said yes would he get food or would it be withheld, a prize to be won through obedience? Or perhaps given freely now then taken away as retribution? He stayed quiet. He'd eaten a massive breakfast and was used to eating only once a day so he could wait if needed. He could go weeks without food before but now he would probably  _ need  _ to eat again after two or three days. Hopefully it would be sooner, if he had to fight the man he would need his strengthen. Honestly if it came to it he would be better off just shooting himself. He would have no good way to prevent himself being taken.

The man’s voice cut across his thoughts, “I'll make you some. You still like ham?” He didn't wait for an answer before adding it to the sandwich. Pup bumped his leg. Apparently she had come out of whatever food induced coma she had been in that morning to beg for more food. He caught the man slipping her scraps as he made the sandwiches.

When the man handed him a plate of four sandwiches stacked on it he was fairly sure he was crazy thinking he could eat that much but he took it anyway before easing back to the floor. He grabbed the first sandwich off the stack.

“You could use the chair you know. I don't mind taking a turn on the floor.” 

He _ definitely _ wasn't going to explain how bad an idea that was. He remembered the few times he'd tried to sit in the chair, the sheer terror. He looked up at the man. He was leaned on the counter watching him eat. It made him feel uncomfortable, at a disadvantage. He tried to meet the bright blue eyes and immediately the pain flared across his body and he dropped his gaze. He touched the gun sitting on his lap instead, much more familiar.

Apparently tired of waiting for a reply the man walked over and sat down on the chair, his own plate stacked high with sandwiches. They ate in silence for several minutes before the man spoke again. “It's weird, you being this quiet. You were never quiet when we were kids.” He paused for a moment then spoke suddenly. “Shit, you do know you can speak right? That you are allowed to?” 

His eyes were studying him now. That was a direct question.  _ Was _ he supposed to talk? He had. The last 24 hours played in his mind. He had spoken, hell even shouted at him yesterday and it hadn't been an issue but drawing attention to it made it feel so much harder. 

The longer he sat in silence trying to determine the correct answer the more wary he felt. When the target stood suddenly his muscles locked up, bracing for a strike, but it didn't come. He looked to see the target watching him. “You are allowed to talk.” He said his voice calm but firm. “You are allowed to yell and scream or cry or hit me or whatever it takes to help. I am here to help you. That is the  _ only _ reason I am here. Ok?”

He nodded. The man smiled easily and carried the plate to the kitchen to wash. He watched the man's back as he did. He'd had people promise way more to try to get what they wanted out of him. Silence was comfortable, he had no real use to break it.

“Want more?” The man asked from the kitchen. He looked at his plate and was surprised to find it empty. The man stood now, waiting, watching in the kitchen. He remained silent. Just because the man had said he had permission to talk didn't mean he knew there right answers. He held up his plate to the man to see if maybe he would take some kind of hint from there. As the man reached out his pocket chirped. Cell phone.

He pulled it out, said “it's Nat.” then answered, turning into the kitchen to talk “Hey Nat.” Pause. “Not really, no.” Pause. “Maybe? I'm not sure if--yeah you're right let me.” the man turned back to face him. “Nat is going to come by, bring some groceries and stuff. Is that ok?” And he waited.

Zola's face swam onto his vision, leaning over him and he spoke softly into his ear, “you can say yes and we will do this the easy way or you can say no and it will be much much harder.” He leaned back with a sneer. 

Then at once the face was gone, the target was staring at him, still waiting. Before he could think too hard he said, “Yes.” 

The target nodded then spoke into the phone, “Yeah Nat that's fine.” Then hung up the phone. 

The target took the offered plate and asked again, “more?” but he shook his head no. When the other man's back was turned he checked his clip to be sure it was loaded. If a black widow was coming he would need to be ready. His heart was hammering, they were closing the noose to catch him, drag him back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are intersted in helping out with beta or just want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little short chapter. I will try to get 4 up soon! And Nat arrives!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

By the time there was a knock on the door a cold feeling of resolve filled him. He just needed to put himself out as soon as she tried to capture him. 

The target moved to the door and opened it before turning to speak to him. “She's unarmed but you can check her like you did me.”

Before he even realized it he spoke into the quiet room, “A black widow is never unarmed.”

She laughed quietly and made no attempt to let him check. Her eyes met his. He definitely remembered her training. He had worked with her. He remembered now looking at her face. Sparring practice. Natalia. “Big and blonde is going to head out for awhile.”

The man spoke surprised, “Nat, wha?” 

But she spoke over him, “You need to rest and take a shower. He will be fine with me.”

The man looked nervous but followed her instructions. “Back soon.” He said and left.

She moved to the chair and sat, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “Hey there Soldier.” She said. He recognized the old name, what they had called him on the Red Room. She surveyed him for a moment. “You probably need to clean up too? Change clothes?” 

She waited for a moment then when he stayed silent, “I asked you a question.” She said, her voice becoming firm. 

Immediately a thought clicked into his brain,  _ comply. “ _ Yes.” He said and she nodded. 

“I'll be outside. Come tell me when you’re done.” And she walked out. 

He pulled off his clothes and washed them and himself. By the time he was done he felt dramatically better. He opened the door to let her know he was done and she followed him back in. 

He sat, gun still in hand, against the wall. She sat in the chair and spoke. “I want you to listen. Can you do that?” He nodded, she continued, “I know this all feels so horrible right now. Everyone is being kind, the pin has to drop sometime. The knowledge that everyone has to be lying that they are going to help. I've been there, hell sometimes I'm  _ still _ there but he and I are really here to help. If I was able to escape the KGB and the Red Room and all that we can help you too. I don't expect you to trust us. Not yet. If I can help, let me know somehow even if you can't talk.”

“How did you get out?”

She relaxed back into the chair and began to speak. Unlike when the man spoke he forced himself to focus, to follow every word, as she spoke of her final missions with the KGB and then about joining shield only to discover it infiltrated with HYDRA during the Helicarrier launch. 

Then, once he had been caught up on missions she shifted, talking instead about escaping the programming, about the pain and fear and uncertainty. She spoke of a man named Barton who had helped her get through it and how in turn she'd helped him when he was mind controlled during battle. 

“I remember the worst of it, especially right after, was not knowing the rules. During the training you always knew the chain of command, always had your missions then suddenly you're out in the world with nothing but endless hours to fill with nothing. That's how you feel now right?”

Her green eyes moved back up to catch his from across the room. He waited for her to continue but as the silence lengthened it became clear she was waiting on him. He didn't know how to respond so he didn't. If this was the noose meant to hang him he wasn't going to give her any extra rope to use against him. 

“I do expect an answer.” She said, her voice calm. “I have seen your training. I know silen--” 

“How?” He said, a bubble of panic welling up in him. If she'd seen how he was trained she could pick it back up and continue it. 

“HYDRA stored all their information on SHIELD'S servers. I took a backup of all of it. Your file was there. Pictures, videos, I watched it all before I agreed to help find you.” 

“Did?” He asked but not having a name for the target he simply looked at the door instead. She seemed to catch his meaning.

“No, he couldn't or didn't want to. He said he would find out about it if you were ever able to talk about it but that it was your story to tell.”

She paused, then, and for a long time they fell into silence. Pup had given up on trying to get Nat to pet her and wandered over to him, landing heavily in his lap. He remembered the question she had asked. Was she still waiting for a reply? Making up his mind he said, “Yes.”

She smiled, “Thank you. I know it's difficult. So let me explain how the next few months are going to go.” He brought his head back up to look into her eyes again. This was familiar, this he could handle. “We are going to stay here with you, probably in rotation like this, until you feel safe enough to come with us. Once that happens we will go back to New York to Avengers Tower which is where he and I live. I believe the current idea is for you to share his floor but there is more than enough space for you to have a floor to yourself if you want it. After you have had time to settle in we will begin working on deactivating your trigger phrases.”

Something in his eyes must have shown the terror at those words because she paused then continued her voice still calm and quiet “Yes I know your trigger words. You know mine too don't you?” He didn't hesitate that time instead just nodding. She continued, her voice slightly colder “That makes you and I on even ground. Clint and you are the only two alive who know mine. You don't plan to try to use that knowledge?” 

He spoke aloud then, “No.”

Her voice was back to normal. “Good. At the tower, you can start to figure out a new normal, a routine and you will be in one of the safest places in the world where Hydra could never reach. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” He said the reply coming easier. He had his mission now and the reply felt easy.

“Good. Any questions?”

“Who  _ is _ he?” He asked, his eyes back at the door. 

“You and he were best friends when you were kids, inseparable the way he describes it, maybe even more than friends. You went to war and were captured and he helped you escape. Then you helped him start taking down Hydra when you fell and were captured again.”

He nodded. The man had told him all that already. “His name?”

“Not yet. As part of your training they played his name over and over while they tortured you. They didn't stop till your mind had wiped away every trace of him from your memory. Hearing it again will be a trigger. It will probably be the worst one you have outside of your phrases.”

“Like yesterday?” He asked. Then before she could reply he realized he could not remember what the man had said that caused the pain and panic.

“Like yesterday but worse.” She confirmed. “You can't remember what set your off yesterday can you?” 

He dropped his gaze to the floor. “No.” It was uncomfortable how she knew.

“It was your name. He said your name and the memories came back along with the pain of them beating it out of you.”

He nodded. That made sense. “What is my name?”

She seemed to think for awhile before answering. “Hearing it today won't be any less painful than yesterday.” 

He nodded. She started to speak again when the door opened. He was on his feet gun in hand but it was just the man. He was carrying a cardboard tray with three cups on it. 

Nat made an exasperated noise, “You were supposed to get some  _ rest _ .”

The man smiled at her, “I rested last night. I'm good.” Before handing her one of the cups. “Besides I brought coffee.”

The man moved to him and offered him one of the cups. He lowered the gun and took the cup with his left hand. He could feel the warmth of the liquid through the cup. He slid down the wall again and setting down the gun he held the warm container in both hands enjoying the heat of it. The man walked over and sat on the floor across from him where Pup immediately crawled on him.

“He just asked to hear his name again.” Natalia said to the man though her bright green eyes remained pinned on him. 

“Is that a good idea?” The man asked, looking up at her, concern clear on his face. 

“I warned you before we even started looking that all of this would hurt. There is no way to do this that there isn't pain” she turned her head to look at the man now.

“I know.” He sighed. “I know. I just wish it didn't.”

She turned back to him. “You still want to hear it now that he is here?”

It wasn't even a question, “Yes.” He said. 

She nodded. “Put the coffee and gun out of reach so you don't accidentally get hurt.”

He complied without hesitation. Once he had settled he turned to her and nodded. 

“Your name is Bucky.”

He felt all the air leave his lungs like he'd been kicked. Memories flashed in rapid fire across his mind as his whole body screamed in pain. He forced himself to latch onto a memory and focus on it. His mother's voice, his name sounding like laughter as she caught him trying to sneak a freshly baked cookie. He grabbed another memory and another trying to piece everything together as the pain wracked his body. He was in the barracks talking with another man then he was a child in school hand up to answer a question, then his sister calling him. Then Zola's voice echoed in his mind, driving out all the others. “Date: August, 26th 1949. Subject: James “Bucky” Barnes, to be fitted with prototype prosthetic and to undergo memory wipe and reprogramming. We shall begin by removing the flesh and muscle away from the bone--” Blackness closed in on him as they injected him with something.

His eyes snapped open. He was sitting on the floor, lungs heaving. Across the room two sets of eyes, one green and one blue watched him. He gulped great breaths of air. “Welcome back Soldier.” Natalia said, her voice quiet. 

“How.” His voice came out harsh and barely audible. He swallowed and tried again, “How long?”

“Only a few minutes.” Natalia said. 

He reached out and grabbed the cup and took a long slow drink. Coffee. It was still scalding hot but it tasted so amazingly familiar he couldn't care. He remembered having coffee for the first time in the military, how it had tasted like tar and he had sworn he would never drink it again but after less than a month he was addicted to the stuff. He'd had it the morning before he was captured, warm and familiar before going out into the snow.

One of the plates was ticking and grinding. As much as he hadn't wanted to do maintenance yesterday with just the man there he  _ really _ didn't want to with a black widow in the room. He ran the plate through all the positions starting at locked and moving up to maintenance but it wouldn't align. He stood, grabbed the tools and sat back down. 

As he worked the screws on the plate the man asked, “Need help?”

“No.” He said without looking.

“Better than yesterday. Yesterday I got a gun pointed at me.” The man said to Natalia with a smile. 

“He doesn't intend to shoot either of us now.” She replied, her voice calm. “He means to shoot himself if he thinks we are moving in on him.”

The man looked shocked, he could see the whites of his eyes out of the corner of his own. He didn't question how she knew. It was part of her training to know. He freed the last screw and reset the plate. 

“Do those normally come out of sync often?” Nat asked.

“No.” He replied, beginning to reset the screws. 

Natalia leaned back in the chair, her head resting on the wall. The man was watching him, he could feel his eyes without seeing them. 

Once the screws were set, he returned the tools to his bag and grabbed his notebook. He returned to sit. If he was going to have people in his space for the foreseeable future he might as well get into some kind of pattern. 

He went through each of the memories written then filled in before starting to write in the new memories. “You are right handed now?” The man asked.

He looked up. The man was watching him write. He went back to writing. At the top of a new page he wrote the memories of his Mom, the barracks, school and his sister. He couldn't remember his name again. Probably best with all the memories it brought.

He debated a moment before adding the memories of the Red Room as well. They weren't memories of Hydra, not really. They could be included. 

Once it was all written he let his head drop back to the wall as well. He tried to remember his name, how deep was it buried? 

He was strapped down. His body was coated in sweat. Zola's voice spoke, “What is your name?” He opened his mouth, confident but no sound came out, his mind swam, blank. He writhed against the bindings. “What the fuck did you do to me you fucking asshole?”  _ Smack _ . His head snapped to the side with the force of the strike. “You fucking bastard.” He snarled. 

The air left his lungs as something pressed into his ribs, shocking him. He threw up from the pain. As he coughed Zola spoke again. “What is your name?”

He spat at the man, was pretty sure he hit his mark but the punch to his skull sent darkness washing over him.

He blinked. He was in his house. Pup was pressed up against his side and the man was talking. Well, maybe not talking. Reading? He felt like he recognized the words. 

Lifting his head away from the wall he saw Natalia, still sitting in the chair. The only way he knew time had passed was she'd crossed her legs. The man indeed had a book open. He focused on the words and found as he listened he could hear the whisper of his Mom's voice reading the same words. He let his head fall back and relaxed. 

He wasn't aware he'd fallen asleep until he woke up to the sound of the man moving. “I'm going to go grab some stuff to cook.” The man was saying. He let himself drift back out for a few but was awakened when Pup pushed on his arm. As soon as his eyes opened she spun a circle, apparently overjoyed he was awake, then ran to the door and looked back at him expectantly. He stood, grabbed the gun and his jacket and once it was zipped he headed out for the alley. He didn't shut the door behind him and seconds later Natalia followed him out. 

He was glad she seemed as comfortable in the silence as he was because he didn’t really feel like talking. Pup found a stick that the kids must have brought to play with. She carried it over to him and shook it, trying to get him to play. Smiling he grabbed it and let her shake and pull on it. After a moment he let her win and she ran around the alley, pleased with herself, before coming back to offer him the stick once more.

They stayed in the alley till she was panting hard. Finally she dropped the stick and headed back for the door. Once inside he moved to get a bowl of water but was surprised to hear her lapping away before he even got to the cabinets. He turned to see two dog bowls, one with food the other with water sitting on the floor.

Returning the bowl to the cabinet he sat back on the wall. It wasn't long before the man was back and started cooking. The man and Natalia spoke some, he seemed unable to handle complete quiet. No one tried to talk to him which felt comfortable. He was handed a plate stacked high with meat and veggies he took it without comment.

The knowledge that he'd soon be expected to sleep with at least one of them watching felt like it was closing in on him. Last night he'd been too tired to question or complain but tonight it felt massive.

The food was amazing. He was pretty sure everything the man cooked was delicious. Memories of eating with his family whispered around the edges of his mind as he ate. He could hear their voices as though they sat in the room near him but he couldn't quite make out the words.

Dinner done the man cleaned away the plates and sat back down on the opposite wall. He picked the book up, removed a scrap of paper holding his place, and began to read. He didn't know how long he sat listening to the warm sound of the man's voice as he read. He was aware he was drifting right on the edge of sleep, unwilling to completely fall asleep and stop listening.

At some point a voice cut through his half sleep quiet and firm, “Go to bed.” He was aware that he hadn't wanted to but the longer he sat the command ignored the more his heart sped up and the more his skin crawled. After what could have been a few seconds or a few hours he complied. The voice resumed reading and then there was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are intersted in helping out with beta or just want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****MILD TRIGGER WARNING****  
>  This chapter features a brief non-descript suicide attempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

November 24

”Tony was able to modify the machines so he doesn't have to sit for it.” His mind snapped awake at the sound of the man's voice. 

_ Machine _ his heart was hammering. His breath felt locked his in chest. They were modifying a machine to use on him. They were going to wipe him again. He had to escape. He remained still, forming a plan. 

“I'm going to start breakfast.” The man said, he heard movement. He let himself ‘wake up’ then. Sitting up he checked the room. The man was in the kitchen, his back to him but Natalia's bright green eyes were locked on him. “Morning, Soldier.” She said quietly.  _ She knew _ . He would have to work carefully. He nodded, gained his feet and opened one of the large covered windows. It creaked loudly, the hinges protesting after a long period of disuse.

He sat back in his spot and fell quiet. He would have only one shot. By the time a plate of berries, eggs and sausage was offered he had it planned as much as he could. He ate willingly, even asked for more which the man seemed pleased about. He would need all his strength. Natalia continued to stare at him.

When the man announced he was going to wash up Natalia smiled at him. “Don't be long. I need to do the same.” He looked surprised for half a second. 

“Oh, uh, sure. Do you want to go first?” He asked. 

She smiled, “No. I'm good. See you in a bit.” 

He waited about 20 minutes after the man left before speaking. “I will clean up too.” 

She smiled easily and stood, “I thought you might.” She headed for the door and as he had anticipated, Pup was on her heels to go out.

“Take her?” He asked as he moved into the kitchen. Natalia didn't speak but let Pup out with her. As soon as the door clicked shut he turned on the water and moved quickly. Packing his bag he slid it out the window then followed suit. He skirted the edge of the alley, the corner of the building still blocking Natalia from view. 

Once he was as close to the alley entrance as he could be without being seen, he broke into a sprint, whistling for Pup as he went. He heard her paws across the concrete but, just as close, he could hear Natalia in pursuit. He didn't look back, just pushed every ounce of strength into running as fast as possible. 

Then suddenly the man was standing in the narrow opening to the alley. He froze. Natalia closing in behind him, the man in front. He brought his gun up, pressed it to his temple, began to squeeze the trigger and Natalia’s hands were on the gun. 

A shot rang out, but he felt no pain, no darkness. He'd missed. The man’s hands closed over his, pulling them into a lock behind him. The plates on his arm locked down as he fought to escape. He couldn't go back. He wasn't going to get wiped, not again. He was aware he was screaming, a horrible inhuman noise, but he couldn't stop it either.

He could hear the man and Natalia arguing.

“I'm going to put him out.” She was saying.

“No, Nat, don't! We can--”

“Can what?” She challenged. “Keeping him awake isn't going to help.”

“No. We can--”

Whatever they could do he didn't hear. Natalia leaned close and spoke in his ear. His eyes rolled and darkness fell.

He awoke with a jump. He was back on his bed. Lurching up his eyes took in the room. Natalia and the man were sitting back at their spots but they looked tense. Pup had been pressed against him and hopped up when he did. He stumbled backwards, off the mattress, until his back hit the corner of the room. He had no weapon now, his bag was gone too. Defenseless in the presence of his captors. He steeled himself, his only chance at escaping gone he would do better to comply until he had the chance to escape again.

One of them was talking, he realized it too late. Pulling himself up out of his mind he listened. The man his voice unsure, “with us Pal?” He tried to push back into his mind for whatever else had been said but after the maintenance trigger everything was always just blank for awhile.

The man started talking again, he tried to focus. “didn't want to have to do that but you were so freaked out. And”

He let him continue to talk but couldn't force himself to focus. Unless extended periods of disuse changed the trigger he would have been out four hours. He knew that. It was part of information he was required to give new handlers.

A flash of realization hit him. New handlers. He looked at the two. That's why they were building machines for him. The horrible uncertainty and panic of the last few days eased. He knew the rules for new handlers. 

The man had stopped talking so he began, each word he spoke feeling like a balm to his frayed nerves. This was familiar. This made sense. “The phrase you used is a maintenance and safety shut off. Using it will cause the asset to go unconscious for exactly four hours. Repeating the phrase will cause the asset to wake up and repeating it twice will reset the four. There are several other phrases that--”

“Stop.” Natalia said firmly. His mouth snapped shut with enough force his teeth audibly popped. “I have read your file. I need no additional information on the phrase.”

That made sense, she knew the maintenance phrase. “Understood.” He jumped forward to the next section. “Are you armed?”

She held up a gun, his gun he noticed. The man however spoke, his voice quiet. “No, Pal. I'm not armed.”

He nodded and reached down, lifting the mattress and producing a knife. He walked to the man, flipped the blade so he held the point, and offered it to him. The man looked between him and Natalia. “Take it.” She told him and he did. 

As he walked back, she spoke, “He's arming us. It's part of his new handler protocol, in case we need to put him out.” She told him. 

“New handler, Nat--” the man started but she shushed him. 

He turned back to them. “What's my mission?”

That seemed to make the man mad, he was suddenly standing. He took a step back, trying to understand what he had done to cause the sudden movement but the man was looking at Natalia. “Christ, Nat mission?”

She waved at the man, quieting him. “Your mission is to help us break Hydra’s programming in your mind. Here in a few days you're going to come with us to New York so you can be safe while you complete this mission.”

The man was still agitated. He had started to pace. 

He backed a few steps away until he hit the wall, watching the man. 

“You know you're freaking him out.” Natalia spoke, her eyes on the man. 

He stopped. The man's bright blue eyes caught his. His head started to pound. The man stopped pacing.

“How exactly are we supposed to know when he trusts us rather than just following orders?” He turned back to Natalia.

“Right now there probably isn't a difference.” Her voice was quiet. “I warned you about this. Trust is going to take months if not years. Right now, this is the best we can hope for.”

The man walked over to her, his tone turning angry “This is  _ not _ the best.” He hissed. “What we were doing was  _ working _ .”

“He tried to fucking run. I don't call that working.” She said, looking completely calm in spite of the man's anger.

“He got scared, that's reasonable. We could have helped.” He said, his voice rising slightly.

“And if the cops showed to investigate him screaming?” 

They both fell silent, then Natalia turned to him again. “I have some ground rules for you.” 

He turned his eyes to meet hers. “If you are asked a question, we expect you to  _ try _ to answer. If you don't feel comfortable, or don't know, you don't have to but we want you to try. If you have a question, comment, concern, or just want to talk you are allowed to speak. Do you understand so far?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any questions or concerns.” 

“No.”

“Good. Next, neither he nor I are going to touch you without your consent unless absolutely needed to protect your safety and well being. If you need help with anything, or you want affection, you have to verbalize that. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Last part, and this is important so I expect your full attention. You are not going to be wiped under any circumstances under our care. Once we get to New York there will be at least two people who may be using machines on you to help determine your physical and mental state. None of these machines will erase your memory. I cannot guarantee none of the things they have to do won't hurt but if it will cause you discomfort you will be warned and your consent will be received before proceeding unless we are facing potentially fatal circumstances. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Any questions?”

He hesitated. “What machines will they use?”

The man spoke now. “It's one specially made to check your brain. We want to make sure all the wipes haven't had any lasting affect. Tony wants to scan your arm, too, and make sure there aren't any bombs or anything dangerous in there.”

He nodded. “My arm has a fail safe. It's in the file.”

Natalia leaned forward. “Tell me.”

“Each plate has a combination of screws that must be removed in one order and reattached in another. If the screws are out of order the plates will lock down and melt the arm away to protect the design.”

She leaned back. “Ok, so you will be in charge of maintenance until someone else can learn that order as well.”

He nodded.

“Now, do you want to work on your name trigger or would you like to rest for awhile? Or is there something else you'd like to do?”

He hesitated, considering.

Before he decided the man spoke again. “One more ground rule.”

He looked up at the man, avoiding his eyes. “If you choose, and you're going to have a lot of times you get to choose, there isn't a wrong answer. Even if you can tell we want one thing, if you want the other then pick that. It will be ok.” 

He glanced at Natalia who was nodding too. He nodded as well then moved back to the mattress and laid down. 

“Sleep well.” The man said.

He laid down and closed his eyes only to discover in spite of being exhausted he couldn't actually fall asleep. He lay in the quiet wondering if he was allowed to get up if he couldn't sleep.

After awhile, he heard one of them moving around then the man was speaking, his voice calm and quiet. It was the book again. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and felt everything getting heavy.

Zola was standing a few feet away, one of his horrible smiles on his face which was unusual considering he was cussing the man out. Zola moved over, something small and black in his hand. Zola placed it right in front of his mouth and he stopped his string of insults. Zola smiled wider “No, no please continue.”

So he did. As soon as his mouth opened Zola shoved the black thing into his mouth as far as it would go and turned it on. He realized far too late it was some kind of shocking device. He choked against it, his eyes and nose running. When his vision started to swim Zola finally let him breathe. 

“You were saying?” He said, his grin wide.

“Fuck you.” He coughed around the device still half in his mouth.

Zola's face contorted with rage and he slammed the device back in.

He jumped awake, disturbing Pup who had been asleep with her head on his hip. His throat hurt. Natalia was gone. It was just him and the man now. The man's back was to him. The amazing smell of something cooking filled his nose. He sat back on the wall. If the man had noticed he moved he didn't speak, which suited him fine. 

Pup moved over to the door, wanting out. He stood and followed her. The man must have heard him as he didn't react to seeing him move to the door. He simply put down what he was chopping and followed them out.

He moved to the corner and leaned against it. It was cold. He hated the cold. It reminded him of being frozen. It made his head hurt. 

The man was standing between him and the exit of the alley but the man didn't need to worry, he had no intention of running. He closed his eyes, waiting for Pup to finish up. 

“Doing ok?” The man asked.

He nodded then spoke before he could think too hard about it. “Why can't I have your name?”

The man actually smiled at that question but as he answered the smile faded. “We don't really know how you're going to react when you hear it. Nat said you held on to it for a long time. Longer than your own name, so they started using it to mean you were going to be punished. They would play it on repeat as they punished you. We want you to be in New York first, just in case the reaction is too severe, we want a doctor in standby.”

He considered this information. “When do we leave?”

“That one is up to you, Pal.”

He nodded. That was not unfamiliar. Many missions in the past had required him to use his judgement on when and how to proceed. He did have a time limit. The money on the house ran out in 13 days.

He heard the sound of footsteps coming from behind the man. Moving out of instinct he darted past the man, putting himself firmly between the footsteps and the man. “Hey, what--” the man started to ask.

“At ease, Soldier” he heard Natalia's voice as she moved out of the darkness.

“Nat, don't sneak up like that.” The man said but his voice was calm. 

Natalia was smiling. “He wouldn't have heard me coming if I was sneaking.” she said, her hand coming up to rest on the man's shoulder as she passed. 

He followed Natalia and the man back inside, Pup right behind him.

“Did you boys get any sleep while I was gone?” She asked, but her eyes were on the man not him.

“I'm  _ fine _ .” The man said sounding exasperated.

“No, you need sleep.” She said as he went back to cooking. 

They ate in silence. 

After finishing, he went to get his notebook from the counter. He had forgotten to grab it during his escape attempt that morning. He folded it open to a blank page and moved over to where the two stood.

“Write my name?” He requested.

The man looked hesitant. “If it's written, then every time you see it, it might cause the trigger.” 

Natalia reached out and took the book from his hands. “I think that's the point.” She told the man before she started to write. He didn't know how many letters she could get down before the pain hit so he didn't watch her as she wrote. When she was done he carried the book back to his spot and sat before looking at it.

She had written two lines in beautiful flowing script. The first line read James Buchanan Barnes and beneath that “Bucky”.

Pain flared across his body but he tried to stay present, tried to keep his focus on the book but memories were clawing up in his mind and finally overtook his eyes. Children in a school yard calling out to him. A teacher scolding him for writing Bucky not James on his assignment. Sitting in a pew, a funeral, his name alongside his mother and sisters’ as survivors. He was being pulled down a hallway. The man on his right was holding his arm while the man on his left held the grotesque stump where his arm should be. He was tossed to the floor of a room. The walls were round and men lined the room. 

“Fight night, huh, fellas?” He sneered. 

A voice came over a speaker in the room. “The asset continues to hold onto names.”

“That's right, you fuckers.” He shouted over the speaker before releasing a crow of laughter.

“--apply negative stimuli while hearing the name in--”

“Negative stimuli? You fellas got me all wrong. I live for our little fights.” he shouted.

Apparently, whatever the speaker needed to say was over, the men closed in as the sound of his name began to repeat over and over on the speaker. He fought for his life, like a wild animal in a cage. He took down 3 or 4 before one of them finally knocked him down. He knew once he was down he wouldn't get up. He rolled, protecting his organs and the stump of his arm as the rain of boots attacked him on all sides. A particularly well aimed boot to the face had him spitting out a tooth. He wondered if they would replace it like they had the last 3 they had knocked out. The pain was starting to cloud his vision. He welcomed the blackness, his name still echoing through the room. 

With a great gulp of air he was back in his house. Natalia and the man sat across from him. He took several long, slow breaths then picked up the book again.

He had no time to even try to fight before the memories swallowed him again.

A girl his age, his name a moan on her lips. A Drill Sergeant shouting at him. Zola stood in front of him. He was strapped to a table that held him mostly upright. The electricity sparked around his head. He was aware he was drooling a bit, nothing he could do about that. 

“Put my brain in a blender all you want fucker. I'm still me.” he spat.

“What is your name?” Zola asked.

“Fuck you. That's my name.” He laughed. Zola reached out of eyeshot and pulled out a torch which he held to Bucky's right foot. He grit his teeth but refused to cry out. He wasn't giving Zola the satisfaction.

“What is your name?” Zola repeated once he had set the torch back where he had picked it up from.

“My name is Bucky fucking Barnes, just like every other damn time you ask me.” he looked towards the window. He couldn't see past it but he knew they had to be watching. He loved them watching when Zola failed. “I don't know why you are trying so damn hard. -- is coming to get me soon anyway.” 

“--?” Zola asked. Each time the name was spoken it was like a skip in a record, but Zola was grinning like Christmas come early.

“-- is dead. He died months ago.” Turning to the glass he called, “Bring me that telegraph. Our asset needs to be caught up on recent events.” He turned back to Bucky, still grinning.

“You're lying!!” He thrashed against the bonds. The metal rings around his head collided painfully with the table behind him but he struggled all the same.

A man entered the room a slip of paper in his hand. The first line was in English, likely how they had intercepted it, then the second line was in Russian so their retarded asses could read it. 

“--is pronounced dead as his plane, which crashed into the waters of the Arctic, has proven to be unrecoverable.”

He felt bile rising up in his throat. It was a lie, a trick to break him. -- wasn't dead, couldn't be dead.

“Again!” Zola called and he heard the machine start to power up. Zola moved in close, “Perhaps this will be the last memory you have.” He whispered, flashing another twisted grin.

He felt the first few shocks as the machine gained full power, then blinding pain rolled over him.

He was standing, struggling not to throw up. Natalia was sitting but the man was on his feet too, looking scared. He crossed to the sink and leaned over, trying not to get sick. His whole body was shaking, his arm grinding.

He reached over and grabbed a cloth, running it under the water he wiped his face and neck. 

“You ok, Pal?” The man spoke from much closer than he'd expected. He had followed him into the kitchen and stood near.

“Yes.” He said. 

“Why does your arm do that when you read or hear one of the trigger words?”

That felt safe. He could easily answer that. Handlers were supposed to know the basics of his arm but Natalia said he'd not read the file so.

“My tools? I can show you.”

Natalia appeared with the tools. He forced the plates into maintenance and opened the shoulder plate. His stomach was still rolling but speaking helped.

“These lines” he indicated the paper thin white wires that entered into his shoulder. “Connect to the asset’s nervous system and mind. It allows the arm to sense and feel, as well as respond to, subconscious stimuli.” He hesitated, then continued, “This line, Красная линия, links the assets arm to the circulatory system and is a new addition, replacing the need for hydraulic fluid in the arm.”

Natalia spoke, “So if it's getting subconscious instructions when a trigger happens it goes haywire with all the mismatched signals which throws it out of alignment?”

“Yes.” 

One of the plates got suck and freed itself with a sharp grinding pop. 

“Does that hurt?” The man asked, his eyes on the offending plate.

“The asset is unharmed.”

“No. I mean.” The man paused. “Is it uncomfortable?”

He frowned, trying to understand exactly what the man was looking for.

Natalia touched the man's arm, “Probably not going to get an answer like you want there.” She said patting his arm.

When he moved to sit down, the man followed him and watched as he carefully reset each plate. It was strange to have a handler take interest in the plates. In the past most just ignored the required maintenance, letting him handle it. If the man was going to take over maintenance would that mean new modifications? 

He was finished quick enough and the man moved back to the wall. He pulled his notebook back and carefully dog-eared the page with his name so he wouldn't open it accidentally. He then filled in all the memories he'd had during the two attempts. He turned to the page with his name but covered the words with his hand and made tally marks for each time he'd heard or seen it so far. 

Setting the book down he felt heavy. The man must have noticed because he said, “Get some sleep, Pal.”

As he moved to bed Natalia spoke to the man. “Are you sure you--”

He cut her off. “I'm fine.”

He made a noise of disapproval but was quiet. A few minutes later the man began to read and he felt himself drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are intersted in helping out with beta or just want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

November 28

The next several days settled into a rhythm. Wake up, the man was always already up and cooking breakfast. Natalia would come and the three of them would eat. The man would leave to get cleaned up and Natalia would stay. When the man got back he would start working with his name trigger until lunch. After lunch he would normally pass out for a bit, exhausted from the memories and pain. He would wake up and try a few more times until dinner. After dinner Natalia would leave and he would do maintenance and write all the memories before bed.

It was strange, then, to wake up after his nap to find it was just him and the man alone. The man was already in the kitchen. Had he slept through the night? 

“Hey, glad you're up. I'm working on something different for dinner tonight. Want to come help?”

He hadn't overslept then. He stood, moving into the kitchen. “Different?” 

“Yeah.” The man said with a smile. “The Dr back home wanted me to stick with stuff from when we were kids but I figured we could all use a change of pace.”

He nodded, watching the man chop an onion. "From when we were friends?”

The man smiled again. “Yeah. It doesn't feel like that many years ago. Probably feels longer for you since they brought you out sometimes. The same serum that they used on you, they used it on me first. Did you know that? Howard Stark made it.”

A memory of an old couple with glassy eyes slid through his mind. He was careful to keep his expression neutral. “Stark.”

“Yup. Howard's son, Tony, is someone you will meet back in New York. I'm lucky to be alive. If the serum his Dad made hadn't kept me alive when my plane crashed in the Arctic, I'd be toast.”

He frowned as a memory whispered through his mind. Zola's smile, the telegraph.

“Hey, you ok? Did you remember something?”

“Zola read me a telegraph. Pronounced dead when plane that crashed in the Arctic was unrecoverable. That was you?”

The man had stopped cooking and was watching him now. “Yeah, Pal. That was me.” He said, his voice much quieter.

“I was waiting for you.” He said. 

The man placed a hand on his shoulder where the metal met skin.

The techs were holding him down as they forced the new arm down into the metal connections. The cords wired straight into his brain knocked together, the pain causing him to black out. The arm was on. It burned his flesh as they welded it onto the connections. One of the wires was too close to the flame. The scream that ripped from his lungs was inhuman. He opened his eyes, lifting up the new hand and flexing it. It was so heavy and his brain was screaming. It hurt so much, his mind struggling to accept the horrible creation. His right hand grabbed the skin where it met his shoulder, blunted fingernails digging trenches of flesh as he tried to get his hand under the metal to wrench it off.

He let out a shout. His back was pinned on the wall of his home. The man was looking shocked and confused. How long had he been buried in his mind? 

“Hey, are you with me, Pal?” the man asked softly.

He nodded. His throat felt like sandpaper. He struggled to stand on unsteady legs. 

“I didn't mean to freak you out. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry.” The man said, holding up both hands to show he was unarmed. “Are you ok?” 

He nodded again. 

“Still want to help? I promise not to touch you, ok?”

He moved carefully back into the kitchen. The man gave him space so they didn't accidentally bump each other. 

“I'll get it started, then let you take over.” The man said. He put oil and the onions and garlic in and stirred it, then poured in rice. He stirred it then added liquid from a second pot on the stove. He stirred it then added more liquid. “You want it to look like this. When it starts running out of chicken stock add more and then just keep stirring the whole time ok?” He handed over the spoon. “Make sure to stir the sides and the middle and let me know when the stock is low.”

He nodded and took the offered spoon and started to stir. It was almost hypnotic to do. He let his mind wander as he worked and in what felt like no time at all the stock was almost gone.

“Getting low.” He said and the man turned, dipped a spoon in and tasted. 

“Perfect. Turn off the burner and pour all of these in and mix.” He pushed a container of what looked like thick milk, another container of cheese, and one of spices to him. He followed instructions and after another minute the man spoke again. “Looks great, here have a try.” And he handed him a spoon. 

He took a bite and was surprised how good it tasted. “Food has really improved since we were kids.” The man said with a smile.

The door opened and Nat appeared. “Hey boys.” She said, then “that smells amazing.” 

“You didn't eat lunch, everything probably smells amazing.” The man laughed. “Plus, I had help tonight.”

“Oh?” She sounded surprised. “You helped cook?” He nodded.

“He remembered something, too. I guess that bastard read him a telegraph of when my plane went down.” 

Natalia nodded. “Makes sense. Anything he could use against him.”

“You feeling ok?” She asked, her eyes on him.

“Yes.” 

She nodded. 

“I touched his arm and it freaked him out pretty bad.”

Natalia moved past him to get close to the man. Her finger poked his chest. “I  _ told _ you not to do stuff like that.” She said. She sounded upset. 

The man held up both hands again. 

“How bad was it?” She asked the man before turning to look at him.

“Worse than the trigger but not by much.” 

She nodded. “Touch may be harder. It was for me for a very long time.”

The man made plates and they all sat to eat. While he ate, he tried to remember more about the memory of Zola reading that telegraph, of what he was thinking of. It seemed impossible that the man who he had been waiting for was here, now, after so long. 

After eating he considered trying to work on his name again but he felt too tired to try so he curled up on his mattress instead. Natalia and the man talked a while, but he didn't pay much attention, and when she got up to leave and he heard the man pick up the book, he was glad. It took less than two pages before sleep swallowed him up.

Zola was smiling again. “I have a new treat for you since you love hearing yourself talk so much.”

“Is it Christmas already?” He spat toward the man. 

Zola looked unphased. Several men moved in and he was worked into a straight jacket, not a new position for him to be in. 

“Hey, genius, I can still talk.” He said. He was in a bad mood. He felt particularly obstinate. 

Zola just smiled and nodded to someone behind him. Someone pressed something into his ears, blocking off all sounds. 

“Words still come from my mouth, jackass.” He laughed.

Something black was being drug over his face. It was tight, clung to his skin. Once it was all the way over his face and down his neck, a sudden realization that he couldn't breathe in. Just as his heart began to pound, something sharp was jabbed into each nostril and he was able to pull in air. The thing, whatever it was, stopped all light from reaching his eyes when he was able to barely crack one open. It was tight enough around his jaw and neck he couldn't open his mouth. 

Rough hands pushed him and he stumbled, trying to maintain balance without any way of knowing where he was going. When they went down stairs, he almost fell forward. Then, suddenly, one of them pushed him. He fell forward into water. Panic gripped him as he struggled to find purchase in the water. He realized with his head tipped back that just the tips of his toes could reach the bottom. He took deep breaths through his nose trying to calm his racing heart. When his muscles started to fatigue he tried letting himself float but quickly realized without enough air in his lungs he sank and the mask didn't allow him to pull in enough air.

He didn't know how long he stayed in the water. It never got cold, so maybe it was only a few minutes. It felt like weeks. When rough hands pulled him out it felt like his skin was raw, the contact too rough. His arms were free from the jacket and his muscles screamed as they returned to a resting position. They ended up having to drag him, his legs too weak to support him. Once he was strapped down again the mask was removed as well as the ear plugs. Everything was too loud, to bright. Even with his eyes closed it felt like staring into the sun and when Zola spoke it sounded like a bull horn.

“How are we feeling this morning?” He said. He could hear the sneer in Zola's tone. 

Fear they might put him back in almost muted his voice, but the fear that they might decide it was effective and use it often was much more terrifying.

“Feeling like a ray of sunshine, asshole.”

Zola's hand closed around his throat. He knew not to struggle though, as he got close to passing out, instinct took over. Finally, darkness took his vision as he passed out.

His eyes snapped open. The room was completely dark save a soft glow. He blinked a few times until his eyes could adjust. The light was coming from a cell phone the man was holding. His eyes tracked back and forth like he was reading. As he watched, the man frowned slightly at what he was reading then his face relaxed and he continued. 

Even at this distance he could clearly see the dark circles that had formed under the man's eyes in the last week. He understood why Nat had been scolding him. He took a moment to look at the man's face. It felt so familiar. Then again, if he'd really been the one Zola had told him about, he'd been important to him. That made it even more frustrating that he couldn't remember.

The longer he laid there the more he got the sense that things were backwards, that he should be sitting watch while the man slept. It had to link to some memory locked away. 

Before he thought too hard about it he spoke. “Have you slept?” His voice sounded like gravel.

The man jumped. He had obviously not been expecting him to be awake. “Not yet.” The man told him, his voice quiet. “You should try to get some more sleep.”

But he was sitting up. After a nightmare like, that he knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep.

“You sleep. I'll take watch.” He told him quietly as he moved to his spot on the wall.

The man looked confused a moment then shook his head. “No, B--Pal. You can't take watch. The watch is to make sure you don't leave.”

He considered this a moment. “I am not going to leave. My mission is to come with you and Natalia to New York.”

The man sighed. “I wish you were coming because you wanted to instead of it being a mission.”

He spoke, hoping they hadn't lied when setting the rules. “I want this mission.”

The man was quiet for a long time, but finally he gained his feet and walked over to the bed. The man laid down and pulled the blanket over himself. “Just please don't leave.” He said, his voice quiet.

He laid his head back on the wall and listened as the man's breathing almost instantly evened out. He sat in the still silence and listened to the city waking up. It would be strange to leave. He picked up his notebook and wrote the half memory of watching over the man when he slept. 

November 29

The sun rose, bringing with it light through the curtains. The man started to stir as Natalia arrived. She looked between him and the man and raised an eyebrow. 

“Hey Nat.” The man mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep. The man then suddenly sat straight up on the mattress, his eyes searching the room till the bright blue eyes locked onto his. His head let out a horrible throb, but the man seemed to visibly relax. 

“When I said you should get sleep, this isn't quite what I was thinking.” Natalia said, her eyes holding the man's.

“He insisted.” The man said.

Natalia's face turned to him but she didn't ask anything so he remained silent. 

“I'll make breakfast.” The man said, standing slowly and heading for the kitchen. 

As Natalia settled in her chair, he grabbed the notebook and settled into his spot on the wall. He opened the book to the correct page, marked a tally on the list and then looked at his name. The pain was instant and complete, his whole body all at once. He could hear memories, too, echoing in his mind, but he was able to stay there on that edge. 

“You ok, Soldier?” He heard Natalia ask. He looked up, meeting her eyes. Then looked back at his name and then up at her again. She was smiling. “Well, that's an improvement.” She looked at the man suddenly, “Hearing it is going to be different than reading it. Don't.”

He looked at the man, he too who was grinning. Without looking at the book he was able to remember his name, though each time he thought it the pain seemed to redouble. Pain, he could handle. He let his head drop back and took a few slow breaths. It wasn't the worst pain he'd felt before, nothing like the first few times.

“Still with us?” The man asked. Keeping his head back on the wall he cocked his head to be able to see the man's face, acknowledge he was able to hear him.

“Status report.” Natalia said and he picked his head up to look at her.

“Asset in pain, pain is manageable.”

“Pain where?”

“Everywhere.”

She nodded. “That part is probably going to take longer.” She leaned back into her chair.

“Why does it hurt him?” the man asked.

She let out a slow breath. “It's pretty common in complex PTSD. The body links the pain felt at the time of the trauma with the trigger. Since they literally beat him while instilling his name as a trigger, the link is really strong and affects him all over.”

The man nodded, though he didn't look overly happy. The man brought plates around and they started eating. He spoke after a moment, “We should begin preparing to leave for New York.” 

Natalia nodded but the man looked surprised. “You're comfortable with going?” the man asked him.

Natalia saved him trying to figure out how to answer that question. “He means you're ready to continue the mission?”

“Yes.” He said.

“When would you like to leave out?” She asked. 

He paused to think a moment. “Tonight, after dark, or early, before sunrise.”

She nodded. “Early tomorrow. I'll want to get some extra rest.”

He nodded too. “Pup?” He asked.

“Of course, Pal. Pup can come, too.” The man said. 

He let out a breath of air. Pup, who had heard her name had wandered over and looked hopefully at his food. He slid her some of his eggs. 

She was starting to gain weight, now that she had a full serving of the dog food the man had bought along with whatever food she could entice off them. She crawled up into his lap and laid down, her head on his left arm. She let out a big sigh. He scratched round her ears before finishing eating. 

Once the plates were cleared away the man left and he washed up in the sink. When she came back inside, Natalia said, “Just think, soon you'll have a real shower you can use instead of the sink.” 

He nodded. He wasn't sure how a shower was an improvement. He remembered the tiny coffin like box they would lock him in and pipe in freezing water to clean off any blood that he'd gotten on himself during the mission. Then he'd be pulled shivering across the compound to be dropped into cryo. At least the sink he could change the temperature. 

“How will we reach New York?” He asked. 

“You have a choice there, actually.” She said, watching him. “We have two planes waiting. One is a typical Quinjet like the ones during the Helicarrier launch. With that, when we get to New York, we can drop it right on the building we are going to. No cars or airport required. We were worried that might not be ideal so we also have a private plane. Probably not something you've ever been in, so no risk of bad memories, but we would have to land it at the airport and drive home. I can fly either, and we have a pilot ready to bring the other back, so it's up to you.”

That decision required less thought. “Quinjet.” He said and she nodded.

The man was back in record time. He'd barely walked in the door when he turned and asked. “So would you be comfortable--” 

Nat cut him off, “You won't get an answer if you word it that way.” She said, a smirk on her face.

The man sighed and started again. “If we all move to Natalia and I’s hotel room, it will be easier to leave for the airport tonight, but we can still leave from here, too. Which would you prefer?”

He thought about it a moment. He didn't like the idea of leaving the safety of his house for an unknown twice in such a short period, but if it made leaving for the next phase easier, it made sense.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but Natalia pushed his arm and he stopped. “Give him time to think.” The man frowned at her but stayed silent.

“We will go.” He said after a few more minutes.

The man started to speak and this time Natalia pushed him hard enough he went slightly off balance. “And stop second guessing. You know all this would be so much easier if you'd  _ let me tell you in advance. _ ” She said before turning to him not giving the man time to answer. “Is there anything you need to do or to pack before we go?” She asked him.

“I need a knife and the rope.” He answered. She knelt and pulled up 3 floor boards under her chair and removed his bag, before passing it to him. Nat then slipped out the door. He put away yesterday’s clothes and the journal, before getting the rope and knife out. 

He quickly braided the rope, then knotted it until it would function as a harness. Calling Pup over he slipped it on her and checked the fit before tightening it down. Pup seemed unconcerned with the process and, once he'd lashed a lead to it, he nodded that he was ready. 

The man picked up his bag and they headed for the door. Pup was happy enough to be outside, she seemed unphased by the new lead, and he followed the man out of the alley, pulling up his hood. Natalia was waiting for them in a car on the street. He opened the door and helped a much less enthusiastic Pup into the back seat with him while the man loaded his bag into the trunk and they took off.

The roads were fairly empty, it was still pretty early. As they drove, he tried to remember the last time he'd been a passenger in a car. It had to have happened, getting from place to place on a mission, but he couldn't think of a recent time it had. 

They pulled up in front of a large hotel. A man at the front door took the keys from Natalia as he followed the man into the building. The lobby was huge, with high ceilings, large couches, and a massive chandelier. To the right was the entrance to some kind of restaurant. He could smell the food cooking and the din of conversation and silverware clinking on plates as they passed. Natalia caught up with them at the elevators. 

The man scanned a card once inside and the floor display automatically lit up a number. When the doors opened it was into a large seating area complete with couches and a large TV. 

“I'm going to get some rest.” Natalia told them, before heading down the hall on the left and into a room, closing the door behind her.

He knelt and let Pup free of the harness and she happily darted around sniffing everything. He followed the man into the sitting area, where he deposited the bag next to one of the couches then, laid down on the other. As though a thought occurred to him, he lifted his head, the bright blue eyes catching his. “You know you can sit on furniture right?” Then he shook his head and said, “Ground rule, you can sit or sleep or whatever on any of the furniture. I understand why the chair would be hard but--” he trailed off.

He nodded but remained standing. “Will you help me with my name?” He asked.

The man sat up and looked at him. “Do you still remember it?” The man asked.

He nodded.

“Is it still hurting you?”

He frowned, trying to understand what the man was asking. “I will be able to complete the mission as--”

“No.” The man said, cutting him off. “No that isn't what I asked.”

He tensed at the man's voice. He knew what came after ‘no’. It must have shown on his face as the man spoke again.

“Hey, remember the ground rules. I'm not going to hurt you.” The man said, holding up both hands.

He watched the man uncertainly. He had heard that statement before.

“Let's try this way.” The man said. “You can feel pain right? You know what that is?”

He felt his muscles tensing, bracing for what was to come. If he said yes it could be used against him later. If the man didn't think he could be hurt then maybe, but he couldn't lie. “Yes.” He said.

“Ok. Good. Do you feel anything like that now?” The man said.

He couldn't understand what he was trying to ask. He had told him no when he tried to tell him he was ready for the mission. He hadn't been injured. He tried again. “I am not experiencing anything that would cause risk for--”

“Stop.” The man said, frustration clear in his tone now. “Nevermind. Yes. I will help you with your name. Tell me when you are ready.”

He felt uneasy as he replied. “I am ready.”

“Your name is Bucky.” The man said.

He didn't have a chance to fight it before the memories covered his vision. His mother was scolding him for getting in a fight after the police had delivered him home. He was in a dark movie theater alone. No, not alone, a warm voice moaned his name. A voice that made his stomach do somersaults and goosebumps erupt over his skin.

A sharp jolt in his side and Zola's face was right next to his. “My name is Bucky, you sick bastard.” He snarled, not waiting for the prompt. He could feel the men unhooking the wires to the blender. They had tried, without success, to wipe his mind yet again. 

“Good. Good.” Zola said, sounding bored. “We have something very different to be concerned about today.” 

The men were forcing him into a straight jacket. Memories of the 17 hours, Zola had told him, in the darkness in the water set his heart pounding. 

“I hope you had a good little nap after that wipe. It will be the last you see for awhile.” 

Restrained, a hand clamped on his shoulder, and they marched him into the hall. He was guided into a room that seemed to have once been a closet. Now all the walls were steel. A camera was set above metal mesh, out of reach even if he jumped. A single bare bulb hung next to the camera. He could not have extended his arms more than a few inches even without the jacket. 

The door slammed shut. He carefully folded himself into a sitting position, knees tucked tight against his chest. As far as tests, went this was fairly tame, if not a touch boring. He stared at the opposite wall, letting his mind wander. 

A loud alarm reverberated around the room making him jump. “No sleeping.” Zola's voice came from a speaker, rough and scratchy on the wall. 

And so it continued, any time he started to nod the alarm would go off. How long had he been in the room? Minutes, hours, days? His mouth felt completely dry, it had to have been a few days. 

His muscles were starting to shake. He kept hearing things in the walls, trying to get to him. He would attempt to move away, only to hit the other wall, and every few minutes that horrible alarm would go off. 

He looked up and noticed a small hole in the wall, he was sure it hadn't been there before. Struggling on exhausted limbs, he pushed his back against the wall and used it to drag himself up to standing. The little hole was chest level now. As he watched, the muzzle of a gun slid through the hole. Panic set in and he dropped to the ground, but another hole opened up, another gun sliding through. He was yelling, begging for the unseen assailant to either finish him off or leave him be.

The alarm blared and the holes were gone. Shaking, he examined the spot where it had been but could not find it. He looked up to check the top hole and instead saw someone looking at him through the grate above him. The man's eyes were gone, gaping black holes where they should have been. He was screaming again.

Rough hands pulled him to his feet. A man's voice was speaking, “Heart level exceeding test parameters. Calling time, 93 hours 17 minutes.” One particularly hard pull sent him off balance and he fell face first into the concrete floor.

The hotel room came back into focus, the sound of his voice pounding in his mind with each beat of his heart. He was still standing, probably should have sat first. The man's eyes were watching him intently. “Come sit down.” The man told him.

He complied easily, sinking into the couch the man gestured to. He wondered how long he was out of himself when that happened. He made a mental note to check what time it was before he went under again. 

The man laid back on the couch. Even with the sleep the night before, he looked tired. “No more till lunch.” The man said.

He nodded and grabbed his notebook. He filled in the new memories then turning to the page with his name, he carefully covered his name then checked the tally. He had read his name 23 times. He made a new tally by the old one, this time horizontal instead of vertical so he could tell the difference. 

Just as a test, he uncovered his name. The pain redoubled and the memories called louder for his attention, but he remained firmly on the couch in the hotel.

Around lunch time, Natalia came out to eat and then, in spite of the man's insistence, refused to go back to bed. “I've gotten a lot more than you have lately.” She told him. Eventually he conceded and went to take a nap himself.

She sat on the couch the man had occupied. “Any questions about today?” She asked.

“Where in New York are we going?”

“A place called Avengers Tower. It's where you will be living now.” She stood and moved to the table, returning with a tablet. She tapped a few things, then handed it to him. It was a picture of a massive building. A red ‘A’ enblazened the top of the building. “Right above the A is where we will be landing.”

He nodded. “What will the mission be when we arrive?”

“The mission remains. Depending on how you're feeling after the trip, we may just focus on getting you settled in your new home and that's it, or you may meet everyone.” 

She took back the tablet, tapped a few things then handed it back. “Tony Stark. He owns the building. It was previously Stark tower.”

He looked at the picture of the man. He could remember his parents clearly. The man appeared to be in his mid 40s.

“He isn't great at socializing. Sometimes he forgets how to treat people like people, but he is very smart. He will be running the scans of your arm and brain.”

“His parents.” He said.

She nodded. “He knows. He blamed you at first, but watching and reading about your training made him understand. He harbors no animosity.” She held out a hand for the tablet and opened a new picture.

“Dr. Bruce Banner. He will be helping with the medical and psychological side of things, as much as he is able. Very calm, also very smart.”

He handed back the tablet and got a new picture. “Clint Barton.” She said. He remembered that name. He'd helped Nat. “He may or may not be there. He doesn't live there and is around less often.” 

He took time to study the man's face before handing the device back.

“There is also a very small chance you'll meet Thor.” She said handing back the tablet again. “He lives on another planet, so he's not around much.”

He wasn't sure if she was joking but also didn't want to ask.

“If you meet everyone, Tony will want to run scans right away. He's impatient like that. Honestly though, after 13 hours, it might be best just to take the day to get your bearings. Once you get past your name and his name,” she glanced toward the room the man went through, “Then we will start working on removing the trigger phrases Hydra programed into you.”

He nodded, careful to not let anything show in his face.

She said his name for him 3 times, but each time he couldn't hold off the memories. As night began to fall, the man returned from bed, warning that someone was arriving with groceries soon.

“I figured I'd make ribs to celebrate this morning.” He said. “Finally being able to remember your name. It's the first step in getting rid of Hydra's programming.”

The ribs took several hours to cook and smelled increasingly amazing. As he ate, whispers of memories echoed through his mind.

After dinner, he wrote each of the new memories down, then spent time staring at his name. He found the longer he looked, the harder it was to stay focused on where he was at that moment. He wasn't sure how long he spent working at it before the man spoke, telling him he needed to sleep. 

The man knelt down in front of the couch opposite him and, as he watched, pulled something that caused the couch to unfold into a bed. “I would tell you to take the bed, but it's probably going to be way too soft for you to rest well. It took me a long time after cryo to adjust to a normal mattress. This will be a lot firmer.” The man pulled blankets and pillows from a small closet in the hall and made up the bed. It felt strange to watch him, familiar and foreign. “You know which door is mine?” The man asked.

“Yes.” He said.

“If you need anything, or have any questions, come and wake me, understand?”

“Yes.” 

The man nodded and headed towards his room. Natalia retreated to the door on the opposite hall and, for the first time in more than a week, he was alone. Not completely alone, he thought, as Pup hopped up into his bed. He laid down, uncertainly pulling a sheet over him. Pup tucked herself into his side, her head resting on his hip. 

The men were leading him through the compound, a blindfold over his eyes. Zola had not come again today but it was obvious the men knew where to take him. Zola had not shown up since the last injection. He took it as a badge of pride. Maybe they had pulled him from the project since the brain washing was failing. 

He was strapped down to a new table. No one spoke as they worked. Then, the sound of footsteps retreating and a door closing. Trapped alone in a room. He became increasingly aware of every creak and groan of the building, every rasp of his breath, every beat of his heart. He was so focused on listening, he didn't notice, at first, the heat in the room but as it ratcheted higher he felt sweat break out over his skin as his body tired to combat the change.

His head was starting to hurt. It at least felt like the heat might have leveled out. He closed his eyes behind the blindfold, trying to hear anything indicating the return of the men but he was pretty sure he knew what was coming. Cook him in the heat to see what the new injection did. 

He slammed his head back as hard as possible against the table. His senses swam. He slammed his head back again and again, but unconsciousness seemed to tease him, just slightly out of reach.

His tongue felt like it was swelling up, filling his mouth. A sudden sharp cramp in his leg forced him to pause his attempts at knocking himself out. Almost immediately, another in his left arm. He turned to glare through the blindfold at the pathetic stump of a limb.

His heartbeat sounded different, he noticed after some time, quieter. He thrashed against the binds and began to slam his head back with renewed vigor. He let out a surprised shout when his stomach muscles contacted so hard he was sure for a moment he'd been punched.

But then the world was getting darker, fading. He must have done it, knocked himself out but he knew he hadn't hit his head in a minute. A voice was speaking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are intersted in helping out with beta or just want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning* This chapter introduces a touch of Bucky's internalized homophobia. He gets better I promise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

November 30

He blinked. The man was speaking, somewhere near him. It didn't seem like the words were directed at him. Then, Natalia spoke too and he opened his eyes. For a moment he thought they had restrained him but as he moved it became obvious he had been wrapped up in the sheet on the bed. He felt oppressively hot. Untangling himself he sat up. 

Natalia and the man hadn't yet noticed he was awake and they were speaking in fast, quiet voices. When he shifted again, Natalia’s eyes flashed to him before returning to the man who was still talking. “Morning, Soldier.” She said.

The man's eyes flash to look at him, his words quieting. “Are you uncomfortable with flying?” The man asked, his voice firm. 

He felt himself tense at the man's tone. His arm whirred softly, trying to prepare for whatever the man would send his way.

“Jesus.” Natalia glared at the man before walking into the sitting room. By the time she sat on the couch, her expression was again neutral.

“Hey,” Natalia said quietly, pulling his attention off the man. “Subject comfortable with piloting, but will not passenger without being manually loaded.” She said, the tone of her voice like she was reciting from memory. “What is manually loaded?”

The man had entered the room and was standing. He gained his feet and moved to stand in front of the man. He pointed at the man's left hand and waited until the man offered it. Holding the man's wrist with his left hand he turned so he was facing away from the man and set the man's hand on his shoulder then said “Push.”

He turned his attention back to Natalia to see that she understood. She nodded, but remained quiet like she was thinking. The man's hand remained on his shoulder, the warmth of his palm slowly seeping past the cloth if his shirt. He could feel memories trying to echo through his mind at the touch but he forced himself to focus.

“If we found a boat, would you rather go that way instead of a plane?” Natalia asked. 

“The mission is to leave by plane.” He said.

“There.” Natalia said, looking up over his shoulder at the man's face. 

“Echoing the mission isn't consent.” The man said, his voice firm. 

“Ask him your way then and you won't get any answer you like.” she said waving a hand at him.

The man's have tightened on his shoulder, turning him. “Are you uncomfortable with flying?”

He frowned. The man didn't like him talking about the mission, he had determined that much. 

The man made a noise of frustration and he tried to step away but the man's hand was still firmly on his shoulder, trapping him close. The plates in his arm locked in with a quiet whir.

Natalia spoke, but her voice came from closer and higher up, she had stood and was moving closer.

“You're just stressing him out. You're not going to get anywhere like that.” Then to him, “The mission is only to get to New York. It doesn't state  _ how _ . What method should we use?”

He looked at her. “Plane. It is much quicker and we already have one ready. A ship would take too long.”

The man's hand fell away from his shoulder. 

“There.” Natalia said. 

The man ran a hand through his hair. The man didn't look mad anymore. He couldn't determine what expression he had now. “Damn it, Nat, it's still not--”

She stepped forward, sliding between the two of them, her face close to the man's. He stepped back reflexively so she didn't bump him. “Do you want to help him?” She asked the man, her tone sharp.

“Jesus, Nat, of course I want to--”

She cut him off, “Then meet him where he can function  _ now.  _ Trying to pull him up to the level you're at is only going to put stress on any trust you could hope to be building.”

The man stood in silence for several minutes. “Yes. Ok. I know you're right, it's just…” he trailed off.

Her tone softened, “I know. But I warned you before I ever agreed to help that this wouldn't be easy. It's going to be a long road and at the end things still may never be what they were. You have to accept it may be a new normal.”

The man nodded and she turned to him. “Pack up and prepare. We will leave as soon as we've eaten.” 

He nodded and picked up his bag, packing in the journal and got Pup back into the harness. 

“Let's take her outside to go to the bathroom.” Natalia said. He nodded and let her lead the way. It was still dark outside and, based on what he could see of the sky, it would be several hours still. There was a patch of grass near the lobby entrance. 

Natalia gave him some space. He watched Pup sniff at the grass, darting back and forth. When she finally slowed down, panting, he glanced over at Natalia. She took the signal and followed him back inside.

When the elevator doors opened the whole room smelled like cooking bacon. “Welcome back.” The man called from the kitchen. Plates were passed out and they ate in silence. Once they were done, the man picked up his bag and they left the hotel. 

Natalia went to the front desk while he followed the man out to the car. The sun still wasn't visible over the horizon. Natalia climbed into the passenger seat and they took off. The ride was quiet. 

Someone must have called ahead, as the Quinjet was waiting for them as they pulled up. Natalia opened his door and lifted Pup out of the car to carry her to the jet. 

He stepped out and was able to make it about 4 steps before every muscle in his body froze. The feeling of the Earth dropping out from under him made him dizzy. His heart began to pick up speed and his arm whirred. 

A hand came to rest on his shoulder and began to push.  _ Comply _ . His mind quieted immediately and he moved forward. This was easy, follow instructions. The hand guided him up the ramp on the back of the Quinjet. He was aware of the sound of his boots leaving the tarmac and onto the black metal floor of the back of the plane. 

The Quinjet had 6 seats in back, 3 to a side, the backs of the seats bolted to the outside walls of the jet. The hand guided him to the middle seat. He sat and systematically buckled himself in. 

Pup’s lead was bound to the buckle of the seat to his right. She moved to sit between his feet. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, panting, and he reached down to pet her. 

The man sat in the seat to his left but didn't bother buckling in. “Go, Nat.” The man called. The ramp closed and with it took the deafening noise of the engines. 

He jumped as a smooth male voice spoke, “Hello, Ms. Romanoff. Will you be returning home today?”

The man leaned over to him. “That's Jarvis. He is a computer that Tony made. He will be at the house we are going to. If you ever need anything, just say it out loud to Jarvis and he will help if he can. He constantly monitors everyone's health as well. It's odd at first but you get used to it.”

The familiar feeling of the plane leaving the ground had his heart spike back up, but once the plane leveled out he felt better. 

“You boys ok back there?” Natalia asked, glancing over at them.

“We're good.” The man replied.

Pup had settled down, her head on his leg. He absently rubbed her ears. He let his head fall back into the padded back of his seat, his eyes closed. 

“Are you ok?” The man asked, his voice quieter.

He lifted his head to look at the man. “Yes.” He said, aware that his voice sounded tight.

“I don't like flying either.” The man said, his voice calm. “It reminds me of the crash. I was awake for way longer than I would have liked.” 

“Getting ready to probably hit a rough patch.” Natalia warned, seconds before the jet dropped suddenly. 

The man let out a soft hiss. “Can we not avoid that, Nat?” He called. 

“Trying, old man.” She called back.

The man groaned and shifted in his seat, bringing their legs together. If he noticed he didn't move. 

He wasn't sure how much time passed in the quiet. Every time they hit a rough patch the man tensed next to him. Pup didn't care for the rough patches either if her eyes were any indication.

“How much sensation do you have in your left arm now?” The man asked him. 

He hesitated. There were several ways he could answer that. The man didn't like hearing about the mission so he tossed that aside, decided to go with the way it was worded to tell new handlers. He had reacted to that information well enough.

“It has about 74% of the feeling of my right arm.” He said

The man didn't look upset when he spoke again. “What does that mean, practically? Like, if I touched your arm you'd feel it?”

“Yes.”

“What about hot and cold”

“Yes. It can withstand extremes far exceeding safe parameters for regular flesh.”

“If it's damaged, does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

The man nodded. “Take me through all the information you can provide on your arm.”

That was familiar and easy. As he spoke the man was mostly quiet, though occasionally he would inject questions. By the time he was done talking, Natalia announced they were moving over open ocean. 

The man stood and walked over to look out the front windows. He talked to Natalia for a moment then returned to sit back in his spot. The man's arm and leg settled against his as the man leaned back and folds his arms. “Only 10 hours to go.” The man says without opening his eyes.

He lets his head rest back as well. It was quieter in the jet than he was used to. Normally, the men Hydra sent would all talk and joke most of the way. They never tried to engage him though. He wasn't something to talk to. After all he was only a gun you took out of the case when needed. 

He let his mind wander. He tried to go over each memory in his notebook without looking and was pretty sure he'd been able to remember all of them. He tried to fit them together, like pieces of a puzzle, but none of them seemed to fit. 

He opened his eyes again when a particularly bad patch of turbulence made the man groan.

“I know. I know.” Natalia said from her seat.

He closed his eyes again. 

When he opened them, the sun had changed position. He looked over at the man. His eyes were closed, jaw set. The man and Natalia had both said they were friends even before the war. He tried to find any whisper of his face in his mind but there was nothing. 

Still, the longer he thought,  _ something  _ felt familiar. He focused on it for a long while before deciding it was the pressure of the man's leg and arm against his. Set on that knowledge, he began to dig through the memories and try to find a link.

The first memory that flashed up was the movie theater but he pushed that one away. He knew how fags were treated and he was certain he was not a faggot. Even with his broken, disjointed memories, he remembered sex with several women.

The only other memories that floated through his mind were of dinner with his family. That couldn't be right, either. Though, as he thought, he remembered the person always on his left, the one he couldn't see. Still, someone had to be there, he turned to them, laughed at things they said. Someone was there. 

He looked over at the man, but even looking at him he couldn't manage to find him in his memory. Making up his mind he spoke. “Did you have dinner with my family when we were kids?”

The man jumped like he'd been hit with a stun baton, his bright blue eyes catching his. “You remember?” The man asked uncertainly. 

He took one more long look at the man's face. Maybe his eyes? Nothing that would count as a memory. “No.” He said.

The man didn't seem upset at that. “Yeah, I did for a few years. My Ma died, and I was alone, so your Ma would make me come for dinner to be sure I ate something.”

He nodded and settled back, trying over and over, without success, to find how the man fit into the memory. After awhile the man settled back into his seat too and the heat and pressure of his closeness returned.

Finally giving up, he turned his head to stare out the front window. The sky was blue and cloudless, no land in sight. He closed his eyes and ran through each memory he had written, but in reverse; just to be sure he wasn't only learning the order. No problems there.

He focused then on his name. It was hurting less, he noticed. The plates in his arm began to reconfigure. The man jumped as the plates against his arm moved. The man shifted slightly to watch as the plates shifted in and out of locked, trying to translate the signals from his mind.

“Are you able to feel them move?” The man asked.

“Yes.”

“If I put my hand on your arm, is it going to make you have bad memories like last time?” The man asked.

He wasn't sure how to answer. He couldn't recall a time when someone just touched the plates to touch them. He wasn't sure anyone had. He stayed quiet.

“Are you not answering because you are sure it's a yes but think I'll be unhappy?” The man asked after several minutes.

He shook his head.

“Are you not answering because you are not sure?”

He hesitated, then nodded.

“If you're ever not sure, you can say ‘I don't know’. I will be fine with that answer.”

He nodded again. “I don't know.”

“Is it ok if I try?” The man asked.

He nodded. He watched as the man's hand came to rest on his forearm. He felt a bit of static but otherwise no memories tried to take his mind. The plates continued to shift and whir, trying to find the correct instructions from his mind. The man's hand moved easily with the plates since he wasn't applying any real pressure on them.

The slow warmth of his hand began to seep into his arm. “Is the way you feel this different than your other arm?” The man asked. He only waited a couple of seconds before speaking again, “That...didn't make sense, huh? I mean,” the man held up the hand not resting on his left arm and carefully stretched till he could rest the hand on his right arm. The man sat, twisted slightly in his seat, each of his hands in mirrored locations on his arms. “Does this,” he squeezed the hand on his left arm very gently, “have the same sensation as this?” and he repeated the squeeze with his right hand.

He frowned. He could feel both well enough to use in a battle or in everyday life. ‘Is the way you feel this’. He felt both arms the same way, using his mind. He didn't have to see or look to know the man's hands were on both of his arms. Finally he gave up trying to understand. “I don't know.”

The man pulled the hand on his right arm back quickly. He flinched, bracing for retaliation. “Easy.” The man said quietly. “Remember, no one is going to hurt you. You are allowed to say if you don't know.” The hand on his left arm disappeared too, but he stared straight ahead. 

The man shifted back into his seat, the warmth of him returning where their legs and shoulders rested against each other. 

“Less than an hour, boys.” Natalia said from the cockpit.

“What is the...what will we do when we arrive?” He asked, careful to omit the word mission. If the man was agitated, he wasn't going to risk making it worse.

“It's up to you. It's been a long flight. It's perfectly acceptable for us to spend the rest of the night just relaxing. It will be about 1 in the afternoon when we land. Or if you would prefer we could meet at least Tony, maybe Bruce, and start getting some of the preliminary stuff done.”

That was far too many hours to just sit, he decided easily. “We will get started.”

The man nodded, his breath let out in a quiet huff. 

Soon, a tiny dot of land appeared on the horizon which grew and grew. New York came into view and Natalia guided them easily over the buildings to then complete a vertical landing on the building she'd shown him. Jarvis spoke, letting them know the local time and weather.

Natalia killed the engine and opened the back hatch. He carefully untied Pup’s lead from the seat, then unbuckled himself. Pup bolted out of the Quinjet to excitedly sniff everything she could. The air was like ice in his veins. His heart raced as memories of being frozen swam in his eyes. 

“Let's go inside. It's freezing out here.” The man said. He was more than willing to comply. “Let's get Pup settled, then we will go meet Tony.”

They moved in through a set of glass doors. The room was all wood and metal. A large table took up much of the space, a bar on one wall. They didn't slow in the room, going straight to an elevator across the room. 

“My floor, J.” The man spoke and the elevator moved without any buttons needed. As he looked, he realized there were no buttons anywhere in the elevator.

The doors opened onto a floor that looked completely different than the one above. The floor was a soft, plush, cream carpet. Across from the elevator, floor to ceiling windows took up most of the opposite wall and opened onto a view of New York. 

To the left of the elevator, there was a kitchen with wood counters and a large kitchen table. To the right, were two couches and a recliner. Several bookcases took up the walls with a large TV in the center of them. 

“You can let Pup off her leash. She's safe on this floor.” The man said.

He nodded and let her out of the harness. She ran laps around the main room before darting down a hallway to explore. The man followed her. “This way.” The man said and he followed.

The man touched a door on the left, “This is my room. If you ever need anything or want to come in, it's fine, just knock first if I'm in there.” 

He nodded.

The man pointed to a door at the end of the hall. “Guest bathroom. Each bedroom has its own bathroom, as well, so you can use that one or yours, whatever you prefer.” He then opened the door on the right. “This is your room.” The man said, walking in. 

He followed. The room had a bed occupying a large section of the left wall. A dresser and desk sat opposite, as well as an open door which seemed to lead to a closet. The right wall had another door which the man was now walking towards.

On the other side of the door was a large bathroom. A tub sat on one wall, a shower took up a corner. There was a toilet, a sink, a small cupboard and a mirror which he avoided looking at. If the man noticed his aversion, he didn't comment. 

The man moved over to the cupboard and pulled out a towel and handed it to him. “Figured a shower would be good before we head down to meet Tony.” The man said.

He wasn't particularly interested in that idea, but he also knew well the consequences of refusing. When the man turned back to the shower, he pulled his shirt off. He was starting to work on his pants when the man turned and stopped him. “You can strip when I'm out of the room.” the man said quickly. “You remember how to use the taps? Hot,” the man pointed at one, “and cold.” He pointed to the other.

He nodded. It was similar enough to the sink he'd washed in. He could distantly, maybe, remember using one before the war too. 

The man moved back to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle and a bar of soap. “Shampoo.” He said by way of explanation before setting both in the shower. “When you're out, feel free to relax, or unpack, or whatever you feel comfortable doing. I'll be in the living room when you're ready to see Stark. This is your space, you should feel comfortable here.” 

And the man left. He waited until he heard the bedroom door click shut before stripping the rest of his clothes off and turned the hot tap on. Almost instantly steam began to fill the room. He reached out to check and it was hot even to his left hand. 

He fiddled with the taps until the water was as hot as possible while still being comfortable and stepped in. The scalding water beat his shoulders and back. It felt wonderful. 

He had no idea how long he stood, just enjoying the feeling of the water running over him, before he finally dropped his head back to let the water soak his hair. 

He picked up the soap the man had given him. As he unwrapped it, a familiar smell hit his nose. He frowned, the bar near his nose as he tried to place the smell. The docks. He'd worked at the docks and would come home and wash with this smell. 

He scrubbed his skin red as his mind provided whispers and shadows of memories: of getting up with the sun, calluses and blisters, and the smell of the water. The shampoo had no smell. He was content with that, he didn't like his hair to have a smell. 

Once clean, he still remained under the water, letting the heat soak into every inch of his body. His skin was tender now, from the scrubbing but the heat was worth it. He finally stepped out and dried off with the towel the man had provided. Once dry he found a toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink and was happy to use them before heading out to the bedroom.

His bag was sitting at the foot of his bed. He dressed quickly and unpacked his clothes into the dresser before throwing his bag with everything still inside in his closet. When he opened the bedroom door, Pup was curled up outside and began to wiggle in excitement at seeing him.

The man sat alone on one of the couches, a notepad and pencil in his hand. The man was glancing up and down between the skyline. The action felt so familiar he was sure he'd remember something but the memory remained firmly locked away.

“Hey.” The man said, closing the notebook and setting it on the small table in front of the couch. He frowned. “You ok?” The man asked.

He walked over and touched the cover of the notebook. 

“You remember something?” The man asked.

“This cover.” he answered. 

The man nodded then spoke again. “Ready to go meet Tony?”

“Yes.” He said, straightening up. 

The man stood and walked towards the elevator. He followed. The man didn't request a floor, but the elevator moved once the doors closed. When they opened again, music blared through the room. He tensed but it was already getting quieter. “Hey guys, come on in.” A voice called from somewhere in the room.

The man stepped out of the elevator and he followed uncertainly. The room was filled with tools and machines. Saying it was cluttered was an understatement. Pieces of metal in different shapes and colors littered work benches and the floor. A few tables were piled high with drafting paper. They stepped carefully around what appeared to have once been some bit of machinery, but was now shattered into pieces on the floor and covered in a white powder. As they rounded a final bench the clutter suddenly ceased.

A man was working with his back to them on something, armor maybe? His hand was covered in bright red metal that he removed as they approached. The man stood and turned. He was several inches shorter, with dark brown hair and sharp brown eyes. In the middle of his chest, a bright blue circle glowed.

“Cap.” He said, his eyes flickering to the man next to him.

“Hey, Tony.” He said easily. 

So this was Tony Stark then. His mind tried to compare his face to the glassy eyed images of his parents but he pushed those down. Natalia had said Tony knew and didn't blame him, but he still wasn't so sure that was true.

“And this is ‘he who must not be named’ then?” Tony asked, brown eyes back on him.

“Tony!” The man said his tone scolding, though it held no heat.

Tony's eyes searched his face and down to the connection point of his arm. “Doesn't look a day older than the pictures Dad had.” Tony said. He hated the scrutiny, feeling himself tense. The plates locked down and Tony let out a soft whistle “Look at that.” He said, his voice quiet as he leaned forward slightly to watch as the plates reconfigured.

“Ok.” Tony said straightening and walking away. The man followed, so he did too. “You didn't make it easy, Cap. No chairs, no wires, nothing around the head or body, but I got there.” He stopped in the center of the emptied space. His voice held an almost manic energy to it as he launched into an explanation that went completely over his head. 

“Ok, come stand here Voldemort,” Tony said, waving him over. He moved cautiously forward, but the man nodded so he moved to the spot the man referenced. It had no visible marking he could see, but apparently Tony could, as he corrected his position twice. 

The man suddenly calmed, “You won't feel anything.” He said, energy restored, “Ok, J, let's start with vitals. And remember, no names.” 

“Of course, sir.” Said the voice he'd heard on the Quinjet. A blue box appeared in front of Tony. There were several numbers listed on it, as well as a video of a human heart beating. He kept his eyes straight ahead. Never move when the scientists worked.

But Tony was speaking to him again. “Are you feeling any pain, numbness, discomfort?” Tony asked.

“No.” He said after a quick look at the man. 

“Good.” He pulled the box so he could see it better. “This is your heart.” Tony pointed. And as he watched the heart, he realized it was beating on exact time with his own. “Everything looks normal there.”

Tony was looking at him closely. “Weren't your eyes brown?” He asked him, then without waiting for a reply turned to the man, “Weren't his eyes brown?”

_ Had _ his eyes been brown? He found his eyes on the man as well, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah.” The man said quietly. “Yeah, they were brown. When I rescued him, I don't know. They were blue, then. It was something the serum did, I guess?”

Tony nodded. “Ok, J. Let's get the stuff Bruce needs.” 

The only change was a soft hum that filled the room. “Ready to begin.” The voice said.

“Ok, you need to stay as still as possible so get comfortable.” Tony said to him, then when he didn't move, “Ready?”

“Yes.” He said after returning to staring at a fixed point across the room.

“Go, J.” Tony said, moving out of the ring of cleaned floor. 

The room was silent for several long moments before the voice spoke again. “Scan complete.”

Tony moved back into his space, pulling the blue box around again. “And that, is your brain.” He said.

“Is Bruce here?” The man asked Tony.

“Yeah, he's here somewhere,” Tony said absently, his eyes tracking over the scan. He wondered if the scan showed Tony anything, the lines and images meant nothing to him. Several moments passed, then Tony was moving again as if the pause in his frenetic energy never happened.

“Now the fun stuff. J, let's get a full scan focusing on damage excluding the arm, save that for last.”

The box Tony had been looking at expanded to be about as tall as he was, the heart was back and beating roughly at the level of his chest.

Tony stepped back and slowly, like someone invisible was drawing them in, the screen filled in. Bones and blood and organs settling into place like a picture in a science book. 

Tony moved back forward to look as the voice began to speak. “Innumerable broken bones healed in varying levels of success.”

“Not shocking, next?”

“Sharp curve in the spine, likely due to the weight of the prosthetic.”

“Will that correct if it's removed?” The man asked.

“His arm?” Tony asked, turning around to look at the man. “Yeah, once I've scanned it I can get it off and we can look into something less weighty.”

His heart was pounding. Memories of being laid out on the operating table, the horrible pain of the bone saw working through his arm, one of the techs yanking the arm out, connections and all.

He couldn't get enough air. If he moved, they would bind him down. He had to stay still to earn his continued freedom. 

“Tony!” A new man’s voice rang out through the room. 

“There is Bruce!” Tony said easily.

“You're going to give him a heart attack.” Bruce spoke, his voice firm.

Tony turned back to him, frowning. He stilled, trying to bring his breathing down and failing. “I, what?”

“I told you we aren't taking off his arm unless Hydra armed it with something dangerous. Tony, we  _ talked _ about this.” Bruce picked his way through the room. 

Bruce seemed to be Tony's opposite in many ways. Where Tony moved, squared shoulders and sure of himself; Bruce seemed almost folded in. 

Bruce moved to stand in front of him. “Hey, I'm Dr. Banner. You'll have to forgive Tony. His mouth runs about 20 minutes before his brain. Try to breathe, move around if you need to, but no one is taking your arm.”

Now that they were close he could see Bruce was smaller than Tony, though not by much. He had what looked like a piece of glass between his hands and he could see the scan of his brain on it.

The man moved closer now, the bright blue eyes trying to catch his. “Hey.” He spoke, his voice quiet. “Try to take a deep breath.” He instructed.

“He probably can't with all the adhesions around his ribs.” Tony said. The man turned to shoot him a glare before turning back. “What? It's true.” Tony grumbled. 

Bruce moved over to Tony to point at something. The man spoke again, “If you don't want Tony to change your arm out, they won't, ok? We just thought maybe he could make something that didn't put so much strain on your body. He will check it though for bombs or remote triggers, but if it's clear we won't do anything.”

He was only vaguely aware that his right arm had crossed his body, cradling the metal appendage to his side. A sharp memory of kneeling in the dark, protecting the useless stump right after the fall covered his vision.

Then he was back in the room. The man had moved away and Bruce was close by, his hands on the picture of his brain. 

“Easy.” Bruce spoke. His voice was soothing, but not as much as the man's. “What you were experiencing is called a flashback. It is a symptom of someone who has suffered something very traumatic. You are safe now. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” He said. His throat hurt.

“Are you ok with continuing?” The man asked.

“Yes.” He said.

Tony moved over to him. “Stand like this.” He said, holding both arms straight out, away from his body. He mimicked the stance. “Good, hold that. Ok, J, run it.”

Tony leaned over the massive scan again. “Severed tongue?” He said, a frown on his face. 

“What's up?” The man asked. 

“Open your mouth.” Tony told him. He complied. “Looks like he bit part of it off.” Tony said.

“Jesus.” Bruce sighed. “I guess that isn't a big surprise, watching the videos.”

“Scan complete.” The voice announced. 

“Throw it up so we can see, J.” Tony said. And like magic, his arm appeared in glowing blue and white and red. 

Tony looked at the man, “How much does Voldemort know about this?”

“Voldemort, Tony, really?” Bruce sounded exasperated.

“Um, quite a bit.” Then to him, “Tell him what you told Nat and I?”

“The thin white lines connect to the assets nervous system and mind. It allows the arm to sense and feel, as well as respond to subconscious stimuli. The Красная линия links the assets arm to the circulatory system and is a new addition, replacing the need for hydraulic fluid in the arm.” he stopped. 

Tony’s hands were moving, each action causing the blue image if his arm to change. He made the plates vanish and reappear, made the hydraulic muscles move and shift, stripped it all away until only the metal bones remained.

It made him feel nauseated to watch, memories of Hydra doing the same, building and unbuilding, making and unmaking his arm each time more painful as they added more and more sensation.

Then, at once, Tony stopped. His hand over his mouth as he stared at the floating arm. “I just.” Tony's hand raked through his hair. “I can't understand how he is able to feel anything in that arm. They connected the wires directly in like nerves, but his body should have completed rejected it. It makes no sense. This though,” his hands moved to warp the arm to show a small, dark blue lump wrapped the bone in his upper arm, “needs to come out. I would have to scan it again, but it appears to be enough thermite to melt that arm 5 times over, let alone what it would do to him if it happened.”

“He mentioned that.” The man said. “It only activates if someone tries to remove the screws in his arm in the wrong order. If he's handling maintenance is removing it really needed?”

Tony spoke almost immediately. “So  _ you _ have a way to personally guarantee no one will ever try to unscrew that arm without his permission? Because I sure don't. It's not worth the risk to leave it in.”

“ _ OK _ !” Bruce spoke loudly. “Tony, do you need any more scans today?” 

Tony didn't look his way, “No, I'm good.” He said.

“Cap, I'd like to go to your place, if that's ok. I can fill you in on what I am seeing.” He gestured to the glass. 

“That sounds good.” The man said, his eyes on Tony too. “Come on,” the man waved him forward, “Let's go home.”

He followed the two men over to the elevator and up to the apartment. No sooner had they stepped out and the door closed behind them the man was speaking, his voice tight, “Bruce, what the hell is going on with Tony?”

Bruce sighed, “I don't know. He is never wonderful with people, but it's been worse lately. Even Pepper has been telling him off for being an ass.”

The man and Bruce stepped off the elevator and moved into the living room to sit on one of the couches. He followed, sitting on the separate couch. “So,” Bruce turned the glass so they could both see, “this area,” he pointed, “and this area are where Hydra seems to have focused on. Those parts of the brain are used to index and store memories for later use as well as assigning emotions to those memories. The mind is just synapses firing electrical charges to each other. They used enough current to basically burn those connections. In a normal person, this much damage, I would say it would be completely unrecoverable. But based on what you've told me, he's remembering new things?”

“Yes. Right before we came to the lab he remembered the cover of my sketch book.” The man said.

“The docks.” He said.

“What?” The man asked, holding up a hand to stop Bruce who looked like he was about to speak.

“I worked there.” 

“Yeah, you did.” He said, a smile on his face. “You're doing amazing.” 

Bruce waited until the man dropped his hand before continuing. “As you and I discovered,” he said, his eyes on the man, “the serum you were injected with has enhanced healing, but not like this. They injected him repeatedly with serum, we know that from the notes, but they were very careful to never write down when, how much, or even what it was.” Bruce turned to look at him. “With your consent, I would like to take a blood sample and see if I can isolate what they did. If anything is hampering memory or increasing compliance, we need to try to reverse it. Is that ok?”

“Yes.” He gained his feet and went to retrieve the maintenance bag. He opened the screws as he walked back into the living room and removed the plate as he sat. Bruce hadn't moved.

“I don't understand.” Bruce said, his eyes studying the missing plate. 

“Blood sample.” He said, moving the red line so Bruce could see the valve. 

“Oh. Oh! I'll go get some vials," he said as he moved to the elevator. Bruce returned a few minutes later with half a dozen vials which were passed over.

He took the first vial and attached it to the end of the two way valve in his arm and turned the valve about half way. He remembered, distantly, the first time they had used the valve for a blood sample. They turned it all the way and it had gushed so fast it overflowed the vial and soaked the doctor.

First vial filled he turned off the valve and passed it over. One by one each vial filled with crimson. Once he was done, he carefully reset the blood line as Bruce rubber banded the vials.

“Thank you.” He said. “I'm going to run some tests. I'll let you know that I find. In the meantime, Cap, don't try to jog any memories, it will only hinder in the long run”

The man nodded and Bruce left. He retreated to his room, locking himself and Pup in. He'd become complacent, but seeing the man and Tony talk about his arm. He was alone, surrounded by enemies with unknown agendas. He sat on the bed and pulled his legs up tight, his right arm cradling his left once more.

As day turned to night he pushed the desk in front of his door before throwing all the blankets on the floor and letting himself fall to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I have been sick the last few days. Going to try to get at least 2 if not 3 chapters up today.
> 
> Quick warning on this one, there are some details of the physical abuse done by Hydra in this chapter. 
> 
> I tried to go a bit more on the medical side to keep it from getting graphic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

December 1

He woke well before dawn. He was either high enough up in the building or it was sound proof because the room was deathly silent. Finally, he stood and paced, trying to make at least some noise in the room. At one point, across the hall, he heard the man snore. The individual rooms were not soundproof.

“Excuse me, Sir.” The voice, Jarvis, was speaking. At the same time a section of the wall turned the same soft blue of the scans from yesterday. “You appear to be agitated and having a difficult time sleeping. Dr. Banner has requested I offer you a selection of sounds to listen to.”

He tentatively made his way to the blue wall as Jarvis continued. “If you touch the white triangle it will begin the sound. If you like it no other changes are needed. If you don't, continue to touch the triangles you want to try until you find a sound you like. The square will stop all sounds, if you choose not to use one.”

Hesitantly, he touched the first triangle. It sounded like a beating heart. He quickly touched the next triangle. The sounds of the waves hitting the shore. Next was 'city’ which ended up being the overlapping sounds of people talking. Then 'rainforest’ which was a bunch of birds making noise. ‘Wind’ was exactly what it sounded like. 'South’ sounded like frogs croaking. Finally he settled on 'rain’. 

“The bar on the right controls volume. Press and drag up for louder or down for quieter.”

He pulled the bar almost all the way down until it was just a whisper. It reminded him, somehow, of the cover of the book the man had yesterday, though he couldn't place how they linked. He returned to the blankets on the floor and laid down. Eventually, sleep found him again.

When he woke again, he could hear the man moving in the next room over. He heard the sound of a shower, the slide of drawers, and finally the door across the hall opening, then closing. He stood and collected clothes from his dresser before entering his bathroom. The sound of rain followed him into the new room.

He turned the water on as hot as his skin could handle and stepped in, letting the heat of it work into his skin. He let his mind wander through the memories. He tried to find where the docks would fit in his shattered timeline. Before the war, that much was easy enough to determine. What about the sketchbook? Must be before the war, too. No. He could remember it in the mud and muck. During the war then? Frustrated, he reached for the soap and began to scrub.

Once he was clean, his hair washed, and his teeth brushed, he dressed. Pup was dancing at the door so he shoved the desk back out of the way, unlocked the door, and let her out. She bolted into the kitchen to sit at the man's feet as he cooked. 

“Morning.” The man said. “Coffee on the coffee table if you want it.”

He moved over to the couch and collected the mug, not drinking it at first, instead letting the heat warm his fingers.

“J said he showed you how to use the sound machine. It's too quiet for me too, I have one of those sounds going most of the time.” He walked over with a plate of eggs and sausage and berries. He handed one plate to him and kept the other on his lap. “So, today I am going to show you around to the other floors a bit. If you are up to meeting new people, I think Clint is around so we could go say ‘hi’ to him. Tony wanted to get a few more scans today. Bruce is going to let us know if he finds anything out with the blood sample he took last night. I--”

“Sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Potts is requesting access to the floor.” Jarvis spoke.

“Pepper?” The man sounded surprised. “Does she…”

“She has been properly de-briefed on the situation.” Jarvis stated.

“I. Yeah, OK, send her up.” Then to him “Pepper is the CEO of Stark Industries. She basically runs this place. She's also Tony's girlfriend.”

The man stood, so he followed half a step behind. Pepper Potts was a small woman with fiery red hair and bright blue eyes. She seemed relaxed and confident as she stepped off the elevator. “Hey!” She said, giving the man a hug. “I'm glad you're finally home.” As they broke apart she kept a hand on his forearm. “I'm sorry to bother you right now.” She then turned to him. “Hi. My name is Pepper. I'm glad to finally meet you.” She looked between him and the man. “I heard Tony was an ass last night?”

“He didn't mean to be.” The man said.

She let out a long sigh. “I'm sorry. I  _ told _ him to behave.” Looking at him, “For what it's worth, he was very excited to meet you. He heard a lot about you from his Dad.” She looked back at the man, “He found some new issue with one of the suits and he's been working non stop for over a week now. I tried to get him to go to bed a day or two ago and it didn't go well, so… Anyway, I'm sorry he was an ass.”

“It's ok, Pepper. Not your fault.” The man said easily.

“Now, on to business. I have had reporters clawing down the door trying to get an interview with you.”

“Why? I haven't even done anything recently.” The man said.

“I think that's the point.”

“Hmm. Ok, see who will play ball with locations. I don't want anywhere more than a few minutes run away, preferably in one of the conference rooms.”

“If that's the only stipulation you have I could have twelve lined up within the hour.” She said with a smile. “I'll make some calls and shoot you a text.” She started to walk away, “It was good to meet you.” She said to him and then she was gone.

After they finished eating and taking Pup to the roof to run around and go to the bathroom the man asked, “Anything you'd prefer to do first?”

He thought for a moment on the list given before making up his mind. “See Stark.”

The man definitely looked surprised. “Really? Ok. Let's go see Tony.”

When the elevator doors opened, music once again washed over them but immediately started to quiet. Tony was easier to see. He wasn't sure if it was because it was cleaner in the room or because his arm, still blue and floating, acted like a homing beacon. Tony sat on a chair just below the arm. He had expanded it out like a bomb with the false metal bones in the center and all other pieces radiating out, the plates being the farthest away. 

“I don't know how you can work with that music so loud.” The man said by way of greeting but if Tony heard him he didn't reply. They moved carefully around the debris to stand near him.

Tony stood and walked straight through the arm that floated before him. If it hurt, he showed no sign of it and the arm simply reformed behind him. “I didn't expect you back so soon.” Tony said. “Did Pepper,” he looked around. “Did Pepper find you? She was just here looking for you.” 

“She found us.” The man said.

“Good. Good. So over the last hour or two--”

“15 hours sir.” Jarvis said.

“Jesus. What day is it?” Tony turned to look at a clock on the wall.

“It's Wednesday, Tony.” the man said.

“Wednesday. So you were here…”

“Yesterday. On Tuesday.”

“Right. Ok. So, over the last  _ many _ hours, I've gotten everything compiled.” He picked up one of the pieces of glass with lines and lines of writing glowing on it. He started to hand it to the man then hesitated. “I don't know if you want to see this Cap, it's not great.”

The man took it anyway. Tony waved his hands and the arm was gone and the full body scan was in its place with his skeleton showing a brighter blue than the rest. 

“If it is a bone in his body, it has been broken at least once, most of them multiple times.” Another hand wave and bright yellow lit up points all over the skeleton. “His ribs are just chunks of bone floating around. It looks like the serum is trying to restore those but it's slow going, maybe another 5 months or so until they are even slightly normal. His jaw took a  _ lot _ of abuse. It looks like it was wired shut at least one point due to just how broken it was. Those teeth, none of them are his and, based on the damage to the jaw bone, I'm guessing they were knocked out, not removed intentionally. Thankfully, the implants he has now are good quality and attached well. There shouldn't be any trouble there. His tongue, which we noticed yesterday, was definitely bitten off. It would have been done involuntarily, probably when they wiped him. There is no sawing, so he didn't do it on purpose. Any questions, comments, or concerns so far?”

The man looked a little pale but shook his head no. Tony glanced at him a moment then continued.

“Moving on to organs.” Stark said and the organs highlighted brighter, the skeleton fading back, “All of his organs show signs of massive damage that has since healed. His heart is swollen very slightly with the stress of having to get blood worked through that arm. It's nothing I would worry about, but probably once every 5-10 years it should be scanned to watch for it getting overworked. For reasons I can't really determine, it looks like they perforated his liver, kidneys, lungs, small and large intestines. At best guess, it was to test his healing but it's hard to say. Both his eyes have had modern laser surgery, it looks like to remove damage done during freezing. He has more adhesions than I could count. On the plus, his muscles are mostly undamaged.”

“He's been shot  _ a lot _ . No bullets left in though, so they were at least good at that. Scars everywhere, sure you knew that already, a few to note: more than 20 scars on the right side and arm that appear to be dog bites? Also, sections of his right thigh look like they took a direct hit from a bomb. Multiple burn scars, but only on his lower back and torso.”

Tony waved his hands and the left arm appeared on the screen. “This is where things get worse.” He sighed. “So, they removed his collarbone and shoulder blade to use as anchor points for the arm. They somehow forced the existing muscle to graft over to the synthetic muscle in the arm but,” he sighed again, “Cap I'm not going to lie. It's like they just yanked and tore it until it was forced to configure right. The nerves that let it feel…Have you ever seen an electrician run a wire behind walls? It seems like they ran a metal hook down, looped  _ live _ nerves to it and pulled them down. The weight of this arm is pulling and tearing at the muscle which the serum is constantly healing to compensate. The long and short is...here, Cap, come stand here.” He pointed at the floor.

“Why do I--” he started.

“Closest comparison. Here, stand.”

The man went. 

“Go ahead, J.” 

A second full body image appeared next to his.

“Ok, so this,” he pointed at the scan of the man and white lighting showed inside the outline, “Are the nerves, right? If I do this,” he poked the man hard in the arm with a screwdriver and the man flinched away, “See how they light up?”

“Yes, but Tony, was that really needed?” The man asked, rubbing his arm. 

“It is for this. So, see how it's gone dark? That is  _ normal _ . But here are his nerves.” The scan of him lit up bright white, brighter than the man's scan when Tony poked him. “So basically,” Tony continued, “What a normal person would call the worst pain they have ever been in, our buddy Voldemort would call getting out of bed on a Tuesday. The only place that isn't sending these insane signals is that arm. I've got Bruce running it but, if I'm right, Hydra injected him with something to make sure he is constantly in pain, which forces up his adrenaline. Great for brief combat before refreezing, but not for everyday life. That, coupled with the fact his ribs can't expand to let him fill more than 60% of a normal man's lung capacity, he's probably right at the edge of an anxiety attack constantly.”

Tony waved again and the arm was back. “The good news is, if I'm right, which I always am, the pain level is fixable. If it's something Hydra did, Bruce can get a serum made to reverse just that. If it is not something they did, he can still probably make something to help. One thing I did notice when running scans, he seems to be especially susceptible, no that's not the right word, I guess sensitive to cold. I'm guessing Hydra froze him, the first time, before they had given him anything to protect against freezing. If you feel cold, he will feel like it's subarctic. Keep him inside in the winter, when you can, and if you can't, lots of layers or he will be miserable.”

The man nodded.

Tony then looked at him, “I would like to get some scans of the arm when the plates move.” 

He nodded and moved to stand at the spot Tony had indicated yesterday. His mind hummed with the information Tony had listed. Some of it he had memories for but most of it he didn't. The man looked incredibly pale, he noticed, as Tony prompted him to hold his arm up at chest height. The dogs were something he could have gone without remembering. It made his stomach churn.

“Go ahead and let the plates fall as they would when resting.” Tony prompted. He complied, his mind still wandering. “Ok, now lock them down.” A soft whir was the only sound as he followed instructions. “What else is there?”

He moved the plates to maintenance mode and Tony didn't wait for the scan to finish before moving over to look under the plates. “Lift your arm straight up?” Tony asked. He complied. “That's where it is.” Tony said quietly. “Listen, I'm going to touch that spot on your arm. I'm not going to try to change anything or remove anything, but I need to feel. Try to stay still.”

“Tony, when I touched his arm the first time it wasn't good.” The man warned. 

“I know, that's why I warned him,” Tony said, grabbing a chair and pulling it over. His fingers touched carefully at a point on the underside of his arm where it met his armpit. His hands were gentle and not rough like the scientists hands were normally. “Can you...would you take this plate off?” Tony asked.

“Tony, today has already been a lot.” The man said, “Maybe not today?”

“I'm not changing anything, Cap, I just need to see. He can say no.” then to him, “You can say no.”

If not today, it would be another day. “I need a screwdriver.” 

Tony nodded and rolled away on the chair and returned a few moments later with one that would fit around the plate. 

Within moments the plate was open. He didn't like Stark looking in his arm but he knew better than to interfere with scientists. 

“Tony?” He recognized Bruce’s voice coming from the elevator.

“Perfect timing, come over here!” Tony called back. “You can relax for a bit.”

He let his arm fall as Bruce came over. “Tony, did you even sleep last night?” Bruce asked, his brow furrowed.

“Come look at this.” Tony said pulling him over and ignoring the question. Then speaking to him, “Ok, up again.” 

Tony moved back in to touch, “So the thermite charge is right here and I'm only seeing a few wires arming it. It looks like it will come out easily. I'm going to run a few scans to be sure but I think I could have it out in a day or two.”

“That's great, Tony, but have you  _ asked _ him about it?” Bruce said

“What do you mean ‘asked’? He's got  _ thermite _ in his  _ arm!  _ Of course he wants that out, what is there to ask?” Tony said, visibly bristling.

“It's his body Tony, you don't get to make that decision. It's not your choice to make.” Bruce said firmly.

“It should come out, though,” the man said. “Tony is right, we can't guarantee something won't go wrong it needs--”

“It's  _ his decision. _ ” Bruce spoke over him, looking at Tony. “You saw what I saw. The complete stripping away of personal autonomy. Any decision about him or his body will involve him, period. This is not up for discussion, Tony.” Bruce finished firmly, his arms folded. 

Tony glared for several moments, then backed up, “J, run the scans please.”

Bruce followed him back out of the way for the scans to run.

“Did you find anything?” Tony asked Bruce while the soft hum of the scan filled the room. 

“Yes. They definitely gave him something that keeps his adrenal system going around the clock. I'm working on reverse engineering something to counter it.”

Tony moved forward to look at the new scans. “You can put the plate back, if you want.” Tony told him dismissively.

He lowered his arm and carefully reset the plate. Tony had the floating arm and was manipulating it.

Bruce moved over to him as he attached the last screw and quickly reset the plate. 

“So I'm guessing Tony told you about the way your nerves are reacting?” Bruce asked.

“Yes.” He said.

“I am working on something to negate that without affecting any of the positive things the serum did. I am hoping to have something soon.”

“I don't hurt now.” He said, uncertain how best to word it.

Bruce seemed to understand. “Do you remember when Hydra first gave you this arm?” 

“Yes.” He remembered that clearly. 

“Did it hurt or feel heavy at first?”

“Both.” He said.

“But now?” Bruce asked.

“No.”

“The human body has an amazing ability to tune out things that are continuous stimuli. You will probably feel weird if you let me reverse it. I'm guessing it will feel a bit numb but in the long run it would be beneficial. It's up to you.” Bruce said.

He nodded.

The sound of the elevator made him turn. Pepper exited the elevator and crossed the room. “Cap, I need you upstairs in five. Tony you have 30 minutes, go shower and shave. Conference room 20.”

Tony made a vague waving motion at her. She crossed the room, heels clicking. “Jarvis, save and close all work, block access, override Alpha 106 until he has completed this press conference and if he tries to override the block, so help me--”

“OK. OK. I'm going” Tony said, heading for the elevator. 

“What about...?” The man asked. 

“Nat and Clint are both in and can hang out with him.” Then to him. “Will you come with me, Sweetie? I'll take you to Nat.” 

He flashed a quick glance at the man, who nodded, before following her to the elevator. When the elevator doors opened, she said, “This is you. Cap, will come as soon as he's done with the press conference.”

He stepped out and the elevator closed on Pepper, voice sharp, speaking to thin air. Earpiece, maybe? Or Jarvis.

“Hey, Soldier.” Nat's voice brought him back to his current surroundings. Nat was sitting on the floor, back against a couch with several guns spread around her. One was broken down directly in front of her and she appeared to be cleaning it. A man sat on the couch next to her, his leg resting against her shoulder. It looked like he'd been reading but had since placed the book down. Clint, he remembered him from the picture Nat had shown him, the man who helped her.

Clint stood, crossed the room, and held out his hand. “I'm Clint. Good to meet you.”

He hesitated. In the back of his mind he could remember what he was supposed to do but it could be a trap. He stood completely still, hoping the man would drop his hand and back away but it was as though he'd become a statue, waiting patiently. Finally, he brought his own hand up, carefully grasping Clint's. The man's face broke into an easy smile as he shook his hand. Clint's hand was rough, he noticed, with multiple calluses.

After shaking his hand, Clint moved back over to the couch. Nat spoke, “I have about a dozen more of these that need done. Want to help?”

He nodded and moved to sit across from Nat. She tossed him a gun and he began to field strip the device. He became aware of music drifting quietly from somewhere in the apartment. He could only catch a few notes but it was enough to keep it from total silence.

He closed both eyes, letting his hands go through each step with practiced precision. Each time he finished one, she checked it over, then handed him another. It felt familiar, comfortable. 

“How did meeting Tony go?” She asked, as he started on the third gun.

“He wants to remove the thermite in my arm.” He said, without looking up from where a screw was stuck.

“Do you want him to?” She asked, as he finally managed to loosen the screw. 

“No. Don't want him touching my arm.” He began to clean the gun.

As he passed the gun over for Nat to check, the elevator opened and the man came in. He frowned, was he already done with the conference? He looked out the window, the sun had definitely moved. The man didn't beckon him to follow. Instead, he was holding the sketchbook. The man smiled at him, then moved to sit on the empty recliner and, looking out the window, began to draw. 

It felt odd, at first, having him in the room but then he started on the new gun Nat handed him. 

As he finished stripping it and began to clean, Nat spoke again. “What if it wasn't Tony? What if Bruce took it out?”

He thought for a moment. “Tony seems more capable.”

“Tony can be an ass but he's good at what he does.” Clint said.

Nat took the gun he offered. “No one likes Tony when they meet him first. He is a good guy. He's just bad at people.”

Nat handed him another gun. “Will you let Bruce help with the pain?” Nat asked. 

“I don't know.” He said, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. He set the gun down and flexed his hands. He was distantly aware his pulse was too fast, that his breathing was ragged. 

He forced himself to pick up the gun again and focus on cleaning it. Slowly, his pulse came down and the shaking of his hands settled. He cleaned and lubricated it twice, to be sure, but when he handed it back it passed Nat's inspection.

“Last one for now.” She told him, handing a rifle over. He took his time to make sure he didn't make mistakes but it all felt routine once more.

When he finished and passed it back, Nat smiled. “Come back again soon, I've got about 5 times this much we can work through.” 

He nodded and gained his feet. The man did too. “I'll show you around the rest of the common floors.” He said.

The first floor he showed him was a large meeting area with multiple TV's, couches and chairs, and a massive kitchen. The man explained that when they hung out as a group it was in that room.

The next floor up was a huge gym with machines, a boxing ring, and several punching bags.

The next floor up was a massive indoor pool. “It's heated all year round, so it's always warm.” The man said. He walked over and touched the water. It felt comfortable and he dropped half his arm in to enjoy the warmth. When he straightened up, the man tossed him a towel. 

“You can come up here any time, by yourself or with someone. We will have to get you some swim trunks, though. I talked to Tony and all three of these floors, as well as our floor, and the roof, you are cleared for. You can also visit Nat and Clint’s apartment, Tony's lab, and Tony's apartment if someone is there to give you permission to come in.”

He nodded. They returned to the apartment they shared and the man started lunch. He realized he had eaten less yesterday than his body was now accustomed to. He needed to start refusing meals. It would make things less miserable if the abundance of food was ever taken away. He decided to refuse whatever the man put in front of him. Yet when the plate of steaming food was passed to him, he couldn't stop himself from eating the whole thing. 

“Maybe if I keep feeding you up, you'll look less like a skeleton soon.” The man said. His tone was light. Did he look like a skeleton? He wondered. He hadn't had a mirror in Bucharest and he'd stayed away from the one in his bathroom unless it was too streamed up to see in. 

“Do you know your clothes size?” The man asked, after they finished eating. Twenty minutes later, the man finished ordering him a vast array of clothes on the glass thing which, turned out, was how computers looked now. Jarvis was also some kind of computer, as were the blue things that kept coming up. 

He felt drained. His head was pounding with everything that had gone on that day and all the new information. He was relieved that when he moved to the elevator the man didn't attempt to follow him. “Gym.” He said, once the doors closed. It seemed to be enough as the elevators hummed quietly.

Stepping out into the gym, he was happy to find it empty. He didn't bother trying to learn any equipment today. Instead, he moved over to one of the punching bags. It took a few swings to find his rhythm but then he relaxed into it. He realized, when he felt the blood begin to wet his knuckles, that he hadn't remembered to wrap his hand.

He continued the pace, letting heat settle into his muscles. It felt comforting. He could remember, sometime long before the war, training for hours at a heavy bag. Had he been in boxing? He could almost remember sparring in a ring, maybe. It felt like a lifetime ago. It _ was _ a lifetime ago, he remembered.

“Excuse me, Sir. Mr. Stark is requesting your presence in the workshop.” Jarvis spoke.

He finished the set he was on, then moved to the elevator. He could hear the sound of his blood dripping from his knuckles to the elevator floor as he rode it down to where Tony was. He crammed his fist into his pant’s pockets, before walking to where Tony was.

He was standing, the computer of his arm still glowing in front of him casting a blue light over him. “So,” Tony said without looking at him. “I've been informed  _ repeatedly _ that I need to ask, are you going to let me take that thermite out of your arm?” Tony raked a hand through his hair.

_ Don't disagree with scientists _ . “Yes.” He said simply.

Tony scrubbed his face, “Fucking _ told _ them”. Tony grumbled before speaking again. “So. We’ve hit a snag. If Bruce's initial findings are right,” Tony finally turned to look at him. “Are you sweating? What have you been doing?”

“Gym” he said.

Tony looked him up and down for a moment before shaking his head. “Where was I? Oh, right, so if Bruce's findings are right, you can't be put under. Something they gave you blocks the effects of traditional sedatives. And not just one, it looks like all of them. Local anesthetics, too. That means we can go about this one of two ways. You can be awake and alert and aware of all of it, or we can use the maintenance trigger thing and knock you out.”

He waited for Tony to continue, but the man had stopped and was watching him. He had a choice? “No trigger.” He said. He didn't like the idea of being unconscious around Tony, but also knew that if it was a trick or trap, then it wouldn't matter what he picked.

“You sure? It's going to hurt.” Tony was frowning. ”There are some nerves in there that will have to be moved for me to get that charge out.” He turned back to the computer and spun the arm with his hand. “It's doable. Tomorrow?” Tony asked.

He nodded. 

“See you then.” Tony said, by way of dismissal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The continuation of the last chapter, plus time to take that thermite out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

He returned to the apartment after that. The man wasn't in the living room, which he was glad for. He retreated to his bathroom and stripped, washing the blood out of his pant’s pockets in the sink before the man's words came to mind. 

He took a few steps back and looked up into the mirror. Bright blue eyes met his. Tony's voice spoke through his mind, they used to be brown. He remembered them being brown. Why would Hydra change something so trivial? His eyes looked too far into his skull, like they were sunk in. His cheek bones stuck out in sharp contrast to his cheeks, which were sunk in. He had a beard, he needed to shave. His hair was long, past his shoulders. That needed to be fixed, too. 

Every bone in his chest stuck out too far. The area where his arm connected was raised higher than the rest of his skin. The man was right. He looked like a skeleton draped in scarred, damaged skin. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and turned on the shower, happy when the mirror fogged enough he could no longer see the stranger looking back at him.

Once he was clean, he dug through the cupboard and found what he needed to shave. It felt strange, doing this himself. One of the scientists had been good with a straight blade and had handled that job, always cutting jokes about how easy it would be to kill him if he wasn't still. Then, one day he'd done it before a wipe, the programming was wearing off, and he'd pushed into the blade. The man was quick, it hadn’t been enough to kill him, but all shaving was done under maintenance trigger from then on. 

Once he had shaved, he retrieved a knife from his bag. He had scissors in the medical supplies, but no use blunting them on something superficial. He gathered his hair, just a little past his shoulders, and sawed it off with the knife. When he was done, he checked to make sure the length fell just a bit shorter than this shoulder. 

The lack of beard made his cheeks more gaunt but it looked more like him. A knock at his bedroom door made him jump. “Your new clothes are here, can I come in?” 

“No.” He called, moving to get dressed. 

“Ok. Just come out when you're ready.” The man called. He heard footsteps retreating from his door. He stood, frowning at the door for several long moments. The man hadn't sounded upset. Would he get punished for telling him ‘no’?

Deciding he didn't want to wait a long time to find out, he dressed quickly. If he would be in trouble for saying ‘no’, making the man wait longer would do him no favors.

He toweled his hair, then moved to the living room. The man was sitting on the couch, sketching something. The TV was quietly playing. “Hey,” the man said, without looking up at first. “The box is there.” the man pointed.

He had taken half a step when the man finished what he was working on, looked up and said “Holy shit Bu-” then snapped his mouth shut on the rest of the word. He froze, uncertain if the exclamation was a positive one. The man stood and moved closer to him. 

“You shaved? And cut your hair?” He asked, his voice calmer.

He was now very confident he'd done something wrong. The tone was too calm, the man's movements too slow. “Yes.” He said, feeling stiff. 

The man took a deep breath before smiling. “It looks good. I'm glad you took the time to do that. Let's look at the new clothes.” 

And after that, the man was back to normal. Whatever strangeness had passed. The man opened the box and began passing him clothes. At first he thought he was supposed to be holding them but as the mountain of clothes grew in his arms he realized he should probably be folding them to carry to his room. He set them on the couch and began to fold them quickly. 

If the man was upset at the misstep, he didn't show it. Once the clothes in his arms had been folded, the man started handing him things, one at a time, to fold and stack.

It seemed the man had bought him at least 4 of every type of clothing imaginable. Long sleeved shirts, short sleeved shirts, workout shirts, hoodies, jeans, cargo pants, long shorts out of a soft, mesh material, and pajama pants. When the man handed him long shorts out of a strange, slick material he must have hesitated too long, because the man spoke. “It's a swimsuit.” the man said. “Might be a bit different than you can remember from when we were kids. You…” he stopped himself, a smile dropping from his lips. “Sorry, nevermind.”

He waited a moment to see if the man would speak, then folded the swimsuit, and set it with the clothes. The next clothing was the same style as the swimsuit, but obviously made of cotton.

“Underwear.” The man told him without prompting. 

Socks were the last thing out of the box. The entire couch was buried in clothes. “You should probably try on a shirt and pants to be sure they fit, since we were guessing sizes.” The man said, collecting all the packaging back into the box. 

He complied without question, pulling off the clothes he had on. He grabbed the underwear and pulled it on, then pants. The man stood abruptly and turned away as he reached for a shirt. “You could have changed in your room.” the man told him. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to hold still or change. The last thing the man said was ‘change’ so he went with that, pulling on a short sleeved shirt.

The man turned back around and smiled easily, “Those fit you good. Can I help you carry the rest to your room?”

He nodded and the man gathered up an armload of the new clothes and carried them into the bedroom. The man stood close, letting him take garments a few at a time, and put them in the dresser. Once they were put away, they walked to the door, “I'm going to start dinner.” The man said.

He nodded and settled on the bed. “Would you like to listen to the rain again, sir?” Jarvis asked.

“Yes.” He said and immediately the soft sound of rain filled the room. He closed his eyes and let the sound wash over him. A knock on the door brought his head up. 

“Can I come in?” The man called through the door 

“Yes.” He called. 

The man opened the door, a plate in hand. 

“Hey.” The man said softly. “I know you've had a long couple of days, thought you might want to eat in here.”

He sat up, the surprise he felt carefully hidden from his face. “Yes.” He said, softly reaching for the plate. As soon as the man had passed the plate, he moved to the door. He paused at the threshold. “Don't worry about bringing your plate in till tomorrow, ok? You need to rest.”

He nodded. The meal was simple, steak and potatoes and greens, but it tasted amazing. Once he was done, he set the plate on his dresser and returned to bed.

“Would you like me to dim the lights, sir?” Jarvis asked.

He only nodded, but that seemed to be enough. The lights lowered in the room. He remembered the night clothes and stood, changing in the half dark, before crawling back into bed. He pulled the blankets up and was asleep almost instantly.

December 2

He woke up slowly the next morning. His body felt warm and heavy and he wondered if he'd been drugged. As he sat up and rubbed his face, he realized he hadn't had any nightmares, or really any dreams he could remember. Looking around, he also realized that he hadn't remembered to take care of Pup the night before. The wasn't something he'd ever forgotten before, but then again, she'd normally been around to remind him. He hoped the man had fed her dinner and taken her to the roof. 

He took a slow, deep breath and the smell of coffee and cooking bacon filled his nose. He stood, deciding to go check on Pup before showering. He debated only briefly about changing before slipping out of the room in his pajamas. 

As he moved into the living room, he could see Pup's tail wagging around the center counter of the kitchen. She was sitting at the man's feet as he cooked, probably hoping for scraps. She apparently didn't think the risk of missing food was worth coming to greet him, as she didn't budge from her spot as he entered the living room.

The man's back was to him and he hadn't noticed his presence yet. The man was dressed in the same kind of pants he had on, but he had forgone a shirt. A few scars dappled his back. His shoulders were broad, broader than his would have been even with Hydra. He was humming tunelessly as he cooked what looked like bacon in one pan and pancakes in the other. 

The man turned to pick something up from behind him, looked up and jumped. “Jesus, B--” he stopped himself again and took a breath. “Hey, I didn't hear you come in. That looks good on you, too.” He said, gesturing to the clothes. “Breakfast is almost done. You want some coffee?”

He had only been intending to be sure Pup was ok, but smelling the food and coffee was fast changing his mind. “Yes.”

“My hands are a little full, but mugs are in that cabinet.” He pointed. “Help yourself.”

He padded across to the kitchen. He paused to pet the soft fur behind Pup's ears, before opening the indicated cabinet and removing a mug. He filled it at the coffee maker, before sitting on the couch. “We need to put in some more time working on your name.” The man said, without turning. “I am going to say it by accident and feel like an ass when it messes with you.”

He didn't comment. He was holding the coffee cup in both hands, letting it warm both flesh and metal alike. 

The man approached carrying two plates, one of which he passed over. Returning to the kitchen, he collected syrup and his own mug of coffee before settling in. The man poured some of the syrup on his own pancakes before passing it over.

They ate in silence for awhile before the man spoke. “So, Tony said you're getting the thermite taken out today?” the man asked

He tensed. Should he have asked first? Was it outside his place to set things like that? If so, it was out of his hands now, Tony had told him. “Yes.”

The man nodded calmly. “Do you want me to come?”

He wasn't sure how to answer. He took another bite while he thought. A handler should be present, that made sense, but the man behaved unlike any handler he'd ever had. Was it required? If so, was asking a test he was set to fail? Moreover, did he want to be alone with Tony? Not really. He knew that one. He didn't trust any of them but Tony seemed the most volatile of the group.

“Yes.” He said finally.

The man nodded and they returned to eating in silence. He noticed, absently, that the man looked exhausted. The shadows under his eyes seemed to be darkening, like he still wasn't sleeping.

Pup whined from the elevator door. She needed to go out. He set down his plate and began to stand but the man held up his hand. “It snowed for hours last night. I'll take her.”

Had it snowed? He looked over at the windows. He generally tried to avoid looking at them. He hated the way the city seemed to pour in through the windows, making the living space tight. He longed for the cloth and boards that had covered the windows in Bucharest. He let himself be stilled and the man stood and walked into his bedroom. He came out, fully dressed, with a heavy jacket on before leashing Pup and disappearing with her into the elevator.

He finished eating alone and took his plate to the kitchen. He paused on his way back. Sitting in front of one of the bar stools was the sketchbook. He glanced back at the elevator before carefully opening it to the first page. 

It was a drawing of a room. Memories of it rushed through him. A tiny, one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. Home. A small kitchen, living room with a couch and not much else. Cold in the winter, hot as hell in the summer. Rain coming through the roof during the rain. Slumping inside after a long day at the docks. Talking to...talking to someone. 

“Hey!”

He was jerked out of his memories. The man was back. He dropped to his knees, head down, and waited for whatever punishment came. The sound of their breathing filled the silence. The man walked over to stand in front of him. He pushed air that tried to trap itself in his lungs out, pulled in more, waiting. 

The man crouched in front of him so they were almost eye to eye. “Hey. Look at me.” The man said, his voice quiet. 

His eyes snapped up, waiting for more instructions. “Listen, ok? You can't look in that book. Not yet. It has a lot of pictures that might trigger memories and Bruce says we need to not force that, but let your mind come to it on its own. Ok?” 

The man stood and held out a hand. He stared at it, as it was now at eye level. The man's hand was large and a few points looked calloused. “Come on Pal, up.” The man said and he realized what the hand was for.

Not about to argue, and potentially change the man's mind about punishment, he took the hand and let the man pull him up. The man smiled easily and closed the book.

Pup squirmed over to him now, drooling. She had to be the messiest drinker ever. He waited for several moments, but the man had collected his own plate and was now washing them in the sink. 

He felt on edge. If he tried to leave the room, would that make the punishment fall? He took a few steps towards his room and, when nothing happened, quickly covered the distance and shut the door. 

The sound of rain still filled his apartment. It was nice, but he wondered. “Jarvis?” he asked experimentally. 

“How can I assist you, sir?” Jarvis replied immediately.

“Can you.” He paused, unsure he how to word the request. “Make it sound here, like it does outside?” He tried. It sounded dumb, even to him, but the rain faded and the whispers of the people far below filled the room. The sound of the city waking up. He closed his eyes, let himself get lost in the familiar sound, just for a moment, before going to shower.

Once he was clean and had changed, he lay on his bed, just listening. The din had increased in volume and been interlaced with the occasional siren or honk of a car horn.

A knock on his door woke him up from the doze he had slipped into. “Can I come in?” The man called.

“Yes.” He called back, sitting up sharply on the bed.

The man paused just inside, listening, then smiling. “Hey, Tony wanted to know when you will be ready?” the man asked.

“I'm ready.” He said without hesitation. He wanted this done.

The man nodded. “If you want to head down there, Tony wants Nat there, too, so I'm going to go get her.”

He nodded and stepped past the man and down the hall to the elevator. Tony's music blared as he entered the room but, like always, it slowly faded as he stepped out. The computer of his arm still shown blue and floating, so he moved towards it. Tony was bent over a work table nearby and didn't turn when he approached. “Are you sure you don't want the maintenance thing? I've run a few more scans and it is not...” he turned and stopped, looking him over.

“No maintenance.” He said when the man didn't say anything for several moments.

“Right!” Tony said returning to himself. “Right. Over here, then.” and Tony set off, weaving easily through the various tables. They stopped at a padded table. “Check it over, no restraints or anything. I know it's not your favorite but I need you to be able to hold still for awhile.”

His heart pounded, but the memories stayed back. While it was similar to the table Zola had kept him strapped to for months, it wasn't exactly the same. He did as Tony instructed and checked but there were no restraints or tie points.

“Morning.” Tony said, presumably to the man and Nat. “So. I am going to explain what's going to happen so everyone is on the same page. Voldemort has chosen to not use the maintenance trigger and, due to the serum, is unaffected by anything that might numb the area or knock him out, so he will be aware of everything I am doing. I am also going to be disarming a bomb that wasn't made to be removed.” With a gesture the blue arm appeared in front of them, focused on the charge. “Three separate nerve bundles end on that charge, probably a deterrent. I will first be relocating those endings so that he won't lose the feeling in that area. Then I will be removing the fail safe, then the detonation wire. I expect this to take at least a couple hours. If he doesn't pass out from the pain of this at least once, I'll be shocked.”

Tony waved the arm away and passed him a screwdriver. “I'm going to need all the plates from your elbow up gone. Please.” He added at the end like an afterthought.

Nodding, he pulled his shirt off before beginning to loosen the screws. He was certain Tony was watching him but didn't try to meet his eyes.

Tony spoke again.”I am going to have Cap holding your arm, at least at the start.” Tony told him. “A normal person you touch raw nerves like that they are going to come up off the table, and I need you still. Nat is here if you flash back and we have to put you under for your safety. Good?” He asked.

He knew what the answer should be easily. “Yes.”

“Whenever you are ready then, lay down, arm up.” Tony instructed.

He sat and was immediately relieved to find the table felt nothing like Zola's. Where that had been hard and unyielding, this table was padded and not uncomfortable. He scooted back and then laid down, moving his arm up, his hand behind his head. At this level, Tony sitting in his chair could easily work on the arm. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nat hop up on a workbench. The man pulled a second chair over. The man's hand came to rest gently on his arm, just below the elbow.

“Ok. Everyone ready?” Tony asked. A general murmur rose from the other two. “Voldemort?” Tony asked.

“Yes.”

“Ok. J, let's get started.”

Music swelled to fill the quiet, though it was not as loud as normal. He could clearly hear Tony speak quietly to him, “This first hour or so is going to be the worst of it. If you need to stop just say ‘stop’ or ‘no’ or whatever you can. We will take a break. Ok?”

“Yes.” He said.

“Ok. Here we go, then.” 

The first touch was like lightning and took his breath away. He felt the man's hand tighten on his arm but it wasn't needed. He wasn't going to move. White hot pain spread through where Tony was working. He set his jaw and remained silent. After what may have been a week or maybe just a few minutes, he heard the man speak, though he wasn't sure what was said. Then, Tony was speaking much closer to his ear.

“Still good?” 

He nodded. There was a pause, then he heard the man speak again, but this time made out the word “crying.” Was the man talking about him? His eyes opened. Yes, tears were actively falling down his face. He closed his eyes again. This had happened before, during training and during medical work, but it was the first time anyone had commented.

The man spoke closer to him now. “Do you need a break?” A break sounded nice but it would just make it hurt worse in the long run. 

“No.” He told the man. His jaw was shaking, making the speech difficult, but he was pretty sure the man had understood.

A few moments later, the pain ratcheted back up. When Tony paused a moment to get another tool he became distantly aware of the man's hand still on his arm. The man's thumb was soothing back and forth across the closest still attached plate. It was a strange feeling. 

All at once, the bloom of pain exploded across his arm and he went still, no longer able to feel the man's hand past the pain.

“This one is the worst of them, but once it is off we are done with this part.” Tony told him.

He drew in as deep a breath as he could. The movement of the nerves had his mind tumbling towards blackness but coming up short on the ribbon of pain leading to his arm. He pulled himself back into his mind. Passing out in a room full of machines and unknowns could prove to be deadly.

“There.” He heard Tony say. 

He forced his eyes open. Tony was leaning back. “We are taking a break.” Tony told him. “The nerves are moved but the charge is still there for a second. I need to stretch my hands and you need to make sure you still have feeling there, since I moved them.”

The man held out a hand. He grabbed it with his right hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. His head swam and, though he thought he had hidden it, the man spoke low and quiet, “Easy.” He let his chin fall forward into his chest as he waited for the worst of the pain to subside. Slowly, the pain began to localize, fading from his whole left side, to just his arm, and finally just to the point where Tony had been working.

He realized he still had hold of the man's hand from pulling him up. The man's thumb was again moving back and forth absently. He leaned back and the man released him. He began checking each of the sensors in his arm in rapid succession. Years of practice made checking each of the 400 points easy. 

When he was done, Tony spoke, “Good?”

He nodded.

“You handle all the upkeep yourself, right?” Tony asked.

Another nod. 

“Okay. Let me show you what I changed.” Tony waved and the blue computer arm appeared again. “So, here is how it was.” He showed the charge, the nerves wrapping around it to reach their connection points. “Now it looks like this.” And each of the white nerve wires moved carefully tucking behind the charge so Tony could remove it. Tony did good work. It would be easy to still do maintenance without knocking the nerves. “Look ok?”

“Yes.” He said, meaning it.

“Ready to get that charge out?” Tony asked.

He nodded.

“Ok, lay back again, same position. This shouldn't hurt but you must stay very,  _ very  _ still. Cap, you have his arm?”

The man, should he call him Cap, too? Cap’s hand settled back on his arm. He felt the warmth settling in to his arm as he stilled. Tony was right. There was no pain now. Tony worked in quiet. When had he turned off the music? One of the wires knocked the red line and he was startled enough that a grunt of pain half slipped from his lips before he bit it off.

“Sorry.” Tony said, though there was no sincerity in it. “Almost done.”

He felt the weight of it starting to shift out of his arm. The newly moved and still very inflamed nerves protested the shift. Then, all at once, the weight of the charge was gone and Tony was releasing a sigh of relief. 

He sat carefully and began to reattach the plates as exhaustion rolled over him. The procedure done, the pain faded and he was left with an empty shell devoid of energy. He was aware of Cap promising Tony he could come back for scans tomorrow, that he was going to go rest, but it wasn't until he was guided to the elevator that he realized that the man had been referencing him.

On their floor, he was guided to his room where he dropped onto the bed. He realized he had left his shirt down in the lab, but the man stilled any attempts to stand. The sheets were pulled over him and he barely had time to register the lights dimming and the city sounds filling his room before he was asleep.

He woke to a knock at the door, footsteps entering. The man was talking to him. He tried to sit up but his body felt like lead. He let his head fall back to the pillow, shocked when it didn't thud audibly with the weight of it. He hoped any punishment the man wanted to inflict for ignoring him could wait as he fell back asleep.

A knock awoke him and he blinked slowly. “I'm coming in,” the man said, as the door opened. He sat slowly on the bed. His head throbbed painfully as he sat. “Made you some dinner.” The man said. Dinner? Hadn't he just had breakfast? “You hungry?” 

“Yes.” He rasped out. His throat and mouth were completely dry. 

“Here.” The man sat on his bed and offered him a bottle of water. He removed the cap and drained most of it in one go. 

The man didn't seem upset. Instead, he passed over a massive bowl on a tray. “If your serum is anything like mine, after something like that you need to eat.”

The warm smell of stew filled his nose. 

The man stood again. “I will go get you some more water. You want a second bowl too?” 

“Yes.” he said around a mouthful of the stew.

The man smiled. “Be right back.”

He returned quickly, passing over 3 more bottles of water and setting a second bowl down on the side table.

“Feel free to come get more if you want or just leave the bowls till tomorrow. You had a hell of a morning.”

By the time he had finished both bowls of stew and all his water, he felt warm and tired. He pulled the covers back over himself and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one ends very slightly cliffhanger but I am off work tomorrow due to a stomach bug so I will probably get the next chapter posted tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

December 3

He shifted in his cell, pushing the stump of his left arm tighter into the corner. The pressure hurt, whatever they had injected into it today made the skin burn like fire. Tomorrow there would be tests, he was sure of that much. At least he wasn't on the table tonight. 

As his head lulled back against the wall, his eyes caught the glint of metal. Frowning up, he saw it was a shard of metal, twisted out away from the wall. He stood carefully to look at it. He was certain it hadn't been there this morning. Carefully, he stood. The metal sat about chest height. 

He pulled the piece gently, expecting it to be stuck but it slid easily into his hand. He could feel the weight of it on his palm. It had to be a trap. He slammed the metal hard into the meat of his leg. Even though he planned to cry out, hopeful it would lure the guards who were waiting to trap him, he couldn't have stopped the pained shout that left his lips. Warm blood flowed over his fingers as he pulled the metal out with a whimper.

He waited, waited until the blood slid down over his foot and began to pool on the floor, but no guards came. Carefully he lined up the metal with his neck, shaking fingers feeling the artery there, before pressing the metal against it. He would finally be free of this place. 

He took a slow, deep breath and pushed the metal, but nothing happened. It was stuck, pressing featherlight on his pulse. Panic set in, he drew back his arm and swung with all his might into his neck but, again, it was stopped short. A cry of rage and anguish ripped from his throat. He tried again and again but never did the metal do more than lightly prick the skin. The single drop of blood welling up and dropping a mockery.

Then he heard a voice whispering, just out of sight. “Wake up. Come on, you have to wake up. This is a nightmare. You are ok.”

No! He wanted to scream at the voice. This was his chance, his dream, he could be free. But as the voice spoke, the world began to shift, to fade. He screamed again, desperate to hold on.

His eyes snapped open. He was standing. His left arm hung useless at his side. His right hand was clutching something but, more importantly, someone was restraining it. 

“You with me, Pal?” A voice asked from behind him. Cap was in the room, chest pressed firmly on his back, restraining his right hand. They were both breathing heavily. 

He nodded, not sure if he could talk yet.

“I am going to take the knife, ok?”

Knife? His eyes snapped to his right hand. His right hand was wrapped tightly around his pocket knife, his knuckles white. He nodded. He carefully released the blade, letting it drop into Cap's hand.

“Go to the bathroom.” The man said, his voice firm.

He complied, moving quickly in. That hadn't been a memory. He knew that. That had never happened. Only once he was in the bathroom did he register the stabbing pain in his leg. 

Cap was back, first aid kit in hand. “Pants off.” He said then, “Sit on the edge of the tub, leg in.”

He followed instructions and, as soon as he sat, the man had pressed gauze firmly into the wound. “Was that a bad dream or a suicide attempt? I expect you to answer.” He said, adding a second gauze pad as the first was soaked through. 

“Yes.” He said.

“Damn it! Now is not the time for one word answers.” The man snapped.

“Suicide attempt in a nightmare.” He said quickly, trying to push the words out as fast as possible.

The man let out a huff but was quiet. The second pad seemed to be enough, it wasn't bleeding through. The man grabbed wrap and secured the pads, before standing and pulling a towel down, soaking it in the sink. 

He returned to the tub. “Look up.” Cap said.

He complied and the man wiped his neck and shoulder clear of blood. “Right hand?” The man said.

He held his hand up. The man cleaned the blood from it, too. Then, kneeling, he cleaned the blood from his right leg. He moved to the sink and washed the blood from his own hands and chest. He must have gotten his neck more than he had in the dream.

“Going to pull the bandage, make sure your healing is taking care of it and you don't need stitches.”

He nodded. 

Cap carefully unwrapped the bandages and removed the blood soaked gauze. The wound was deep but was no longer bleeding. 

“I am going to wrap it for now. Looks like you should be good by morning” He said and carefully wrapped just the bandage.

Once that was done, the man sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. “Jesus, you scared me. Are you ok?” He asked, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Yes.” 

“No more knives by your bed, ok? Put it across the room or something.”

He felt surprised. He hadn't expected to get to keep the knife after what happened.

Cap scrubbed at his face. “I'm sure not going back to sleep after that. I'm going to make coffee if you want any.” Cap stood and left. 

He sat alone on the tub for a long moment. His leg was throbbing softly and felt warm. It took him a moment to remember the warmth was what his healing felt like. He wasn't shocked it had stopped working after seeing his reflection.

He stood and returned to his bedroom. He collected and cleaned his knife before putting it back in his bag. He considered, briefly, trying to go back to sleep but after sleeping all day he wasn't tired. Instead, he slipped out of his door and into the living room.

The man was sitting on a bar stool, his forehead resting on his hands. He wasn't sure if Cap knew he was there. He watched the slow rise and fall off the other man's back.

“Figured you would go back to bed.” The man spoke into the quiet. “After a nightmare like that, I expected you'd be worn out.” He paused. “You did sleep all day, though, so I guess it's not shocking.”

He fell silent for several long moments. “Of course, that wasn't a direct question so you aren’t going to answer.” He let out a heavy sigh. “It's like living with a ghost, 'cept a ghost would probably have more to say.” Cap turned on the bar seat bringing their eyes together. “I didn't realize what exactly I was getting myself into. Didn't matter, would have gone to hell to bring you back. I just figured after the river...I don't know, that maybe things would be different? That you wouldn't have to be pulled here kicking and screaming. Maybe it would have been better if you were still fighting back. I at least know how to handle that. Instead, I can't even say your name, you can't remember mine. All those years I was frozen away from the world, they tortured you and ripped your mind apart over and over, and I'm an asshole for being frustrated because.” The machine next to him beeped, signaling coffee was ready and effectively cutting him off.

When he spoke again his voice was much quieter. “Doesn't matter. We will get through this. I don't know how but we will figure it out. Come have some coffee.” Cap stood and collected mugs from the cabinet, pressing one into his hands. He filled it at the machine and sat on the couch. Cap followed suit a few moments later, sitting on the opposite couch. They sat in silence, then the sun began to peek over the horizon. “I'm sorry.” Cap said. “I shouldn't have snapped at you. I haven't been sleeping all that much and when I heard you shout and Jarvis said you'd stabbed yourself, I panicked. It's just, if I hadn't woken up. If you'd made it all the way here just to do that.” He took a slow breathe, “Still, it's not your fault and I shouldn't have snapped at you.” He pushed a hand back through his hair. “How's your arm?” He asked.

He hesitated a moment, wondering if one word answers would be acceptable, but eventually decided against it. “Doesn't hurt.” he said. 

Cap nodded. Making up his mind, he spoke again, quietly, “I remembered, from your sketchbook.” He tensed, waiting to see if giving information without request would earn punishment.

Cap, instead, smiled for the first time that evening, bringing his bright blue eyes up to meet his. “Yeah?” He asked.

He nodded.

“What did you remember?” The man prompted, still holding his gaze.

He hesitated a moment, trying to pull his thoughts together before speaking again. “It was small. Cold in the winter, hot in the summer.” He paused but the man was nodding, so he continued. “Every time it rained, it all came through the roof. There was a couch, and a tiny table.”

The man was smiling widely now. “Yeah, that's all exactly right.” 

He took a breath and steeled himself before asking. “You were there?”

Cap, whose eyes had drifted in memory, snapped back to him. He tensed. He shouldn't have asked anything. He dropped his head.

“Hey, look at me.” Cap said, his voice soft. He brought their eyes back together. “Do you  _ remember _ or are you asking?” 

He tensed. Why would he want him to admit he was asking questions? Maybe to set home what he'd done wrong before the punishment fell?

“Asking.” He said, his voice quiet.

Cap nodded, though his features fell very slightly. “Yeah, I was there. We lived there together, before the war.”

He tried to remember more about the tiny place they had apparently both called home but nothing would come. Cap leaned back on the couch. Even with the coffee, he looked ready to fall asleep sitting up. “Go to sleep.” He said, finally, when the man's head nodded so hard he almost dropped his mug when he jerked back up.

The man raised an eyebrow but set his mug on the coffee table. Cap stood and left the room, returning with a blanket that he tossed into the couch. The man paused, looking at him. “You still like to read?” He asked.

Had he liked to read? It didn't pull any memories. He stayed quiet. 

After waiting a beat, Cap continued, “There are a ton of books on the shelves if you want to read some. Help yourself.” The man stretched out on the couch, pulling the sheet over himself. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. It flashed through screens before landing on something the words across the screen named ‘Planet Earth’. “Might like this, too.” Cap mumbled, before rolling with his back to him.

He turned his attention to the TV. A man's soft voice filled the room. He watched the different animals across the screen. A couple he recognized from Central Park Zoo but most he'd never seen or even heard of. As he watched, he listened to the man's breathing evening out. It couldn't have been more than 15 minutes before a soft snore left Cap. 

As the first episode ended and another began, he slid down on his couch, resting his head on the arm so he could still see the TV. He dozed a bit as he watched, occasionally blinking and having no idea what the name of the animal on the screen was, or what happened to the one before.

After awhile, as the sun shone brighter in the window, he sat up, definitely aware he was getting hungry. He looked at the other couch. Cap had rolled over and was facing him, face softened in sleep. He studied the man's face. He could feel a memory there, in the back of his mind, but he couldn't see it or bring it forward. 

He shook his head and stood. Pup squirmed, excited as he fed her, then headed to his bedroom. He pulled off his pajama pants and unwrapped his leg. The cut had closed over the last few hours, leaving an angry red line. 

He showered and dressed, then took Pup to the roof. When he returned, the man still slept. He moved into the kitchen. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to cook, he hadn't since the man had shown up at his house in Bucharest. Still, if he could stab himself, no matter how accidentally, cooking a few eggs should be ok.

Cap stirred as he tossed sausage into the pan. He sat up and rubbed his face. “You're cooking?” He asked, his eyes finding his. Then, without waiting for a reply, “J, what time is it?”

“The time is 11:34 a.m.” Jarvis said.

“11:34? Have I been asleep this whole time?”

“Yes.” He said bringing two plates of food and setting one in front of the man. 

“Thank you.” He said, picking up the plate. “And thank you for letting me sleep. I'm sorry I was an ass last night. How is your leg?”

He pulled up the pants leg until the angry red line was visible. “Good.” Cap said. “Looks like your healing is working still.”

They ate in silence. When he was done, Cap collected the plates and took them to the sink to wash them. “Tony wanted you to come in for some scans today, if you are up to it.” 

He nodded but, realizing the man couldn't see, said, “Okay.” he stood and headed for the elevator.

“Hey.” Cap said, stopping him. “I'm going to be out for an hour or so. If you get back and I'm not here, you could go to the gym, or pool, or I'm sure Nat or Clint are around.”

He nodded, before getting into the elevator. Jarvis must have known, because it moved immediately.

The door opened and, almost immediately, Tony called, “Just the man we were hoping to see.”

Turning towards the voice, he saw Tony and Bruce standing together, talking. “How's your arm?” Tony asked. “Feeling good?”

“Yes.” He said, moving towards the two. 

“We need a scan.” Tony told him, gesturing to the normal spot. He went easily and Tony spoke “Go, J”. Tony picked up the glass to watch. “Everything seems to be settling nicely. The muscles aren't trying to fall like I was wor… What happened to your leg?” Tony stopped to look at him.

“Knife. Nightmare.” Cap might not like one word answers but Tony seemed fine with it. 

“Would you look at that?” Tony breathed and with a gesture the blue floating computer was back. Tony moved his hands and the cut in his leg filled the picture. As he watched the inside of the cut filled in slowly, bit by bit. “Definitely similar to Cap's healing.” He said. “Hey, Voldemort, mind helping us test something?” Tony asked, waving away the blue.

“It's nothing painful.” Bruce said. “Just a vision test.”

“Okay.” He said, not really sure why they were acting like he had a choice but willing to go along.

Tony held up white paper with letters of decreasing size. “All just paper with letters.” He thumbed through them to illustrate his point. He moved several feet away and held one up so he could see. “What's the bottom row say?”

“P F C D T Z L E.” 

“Good. Close or cover your left eye.” He complied. Tony changed the chart. “Again.”

Again, he read. 

“Switch eyes.” Then. “Again.”

“Good.” Tony said. “Ok, J.” The lights all turned off at once. His heart rate jumped, but Tony spoke, “Again.”

He blinked twice, forcing his eyes to adjust and read the line. 

Tony paused a moment, then said, “Cover your left eye. Again.”

He hesitated. “Same card?” He said.

Tony chuckled. “Ok, J, lights up.”

“I  _ told _ you.” He said to Bruce.

Bruce turned to him, “What we originally thought was modern eye surgery to remove damage from freezing, turned out to be implantation surgery.”

He pulled up a blue image of his eye. Tiny yellow lines wrapped around the inside. 

He nodded, then spoke. “Implants in the eyes allow the asset to move seamlessly from dark to light and back.”

Tony huffed. “Someday, I'm going to have him sit down and run over all his specs so I'm not playing catch up.”

“Tony, he is a person not a computer to--” Bruce appeared to visibly bristle

“Chill, jolly green, it was a joke.” Tony said. “J, let him see his arm again.”

The blue glow returned. Tony moved towards him, looking at the scan. “So, if those are the nerves. If I touch here,” his finger rested on a spot on his arm, “Can you feel it?”

Tony had carefully placed a finger in the middle of one of the nerve clusters. “No.” 

Tony hummed. “I mean, makes sense, otherwise, how would they come off?”

The elevator door opened but Tony must not have heard it. When Pepper snapped his name, he jumped like he'd been shocked.

“Tony, you were supposed to be upstairs twenty minutes ago!” She said, moving through the lab.

“No. No. You said it started at 12:30 and it is,” he paused to look at his watch, “12:52. Right! Bruce, why would you not tell me it was time for the thing?!” Tony said, turning to Bruce.

“The thing.” Pepper asked. “You don't even remember what it was do you?” Her voice was a mixture of exasperated and amused.

Bruce looked uncertain, “If I had known there was a thing, I would have reminded him.” He said.

Pepper finally picked through to where the three of them stood. 

Tony stepped into her space, “Maybe I can make it up to you?” He moved down to snag a kiss. Pepper pushed him back “Go!” She said, her voice set but, when he turned away, she was smiling. 

Once the elevator doors closed, Bruce spoke, “What ‘thing’ did he forget?” He was smiling, too. 

“Lunch plans. I'm going to give him a few, see if he remembers. It's always good to sweat him out a bit when he forgets things.” She sighed. “Doesn't make him remember any more often but makes me feel better.” She smiled, turning to Bruce and touching his shoulder. “You don't need to try to remember for him, Bruce. Tony is a big boy. I'm going to get him together, somehow.”

Bruce smiled at her.

She turned her eyes to him. “Hey, sweetie, how's your arm? Tony said he got the charge out of it.”

He hesitated. Watching her go from shouting at Tony to calm and kind was disconcerting. “It's ok.” He tried.

She smiled again. “Good. I'll see you both later, ok? J, what floor did Tony end up on?”

“He just walked into conference room 12 and has greatly confused several investors.” Pepper sighed and left the lab.

“You knew Howard at one point, didn't you?” Bruce asked, watching them leave.

“Yes.” He said.

“Was he as scattered as Tony? Or is that something unique to him?”

“No. He wasn't.”

“Hmm.” Bruce said, then shrugged. “So, I've been working on figuring out a way to reverse the serum they used to keep your body on edge. It's taking time, but hopefully it will be soon. Do you have anything you need to ask?”

“No.”

“I'll see you later, then.” Bruce said, before moving to the elevators. 

He was surprised he was ok being alone in the lab. His arm still floated quietly in front of him. Glancing around, he moved over to it. All of it was familiar to him. He'd seen the arm being made. Each piece had been put on in layers as they tested it. He remembered more than a week before they got the first gears in when the unmoving hunk of metal skeleton had hung where his arm belonged, banging into his ribs and leaving bruises. 

Tentatively, he moved a hand like he had seen Tony do and the picture spun. A few more random gestures and he was able to fairly reliably move the arm around. 

“Not too hard, huh?” He jumped. He hadn't heard the elevator open, nor had he seen Cap moving across the room. He dropped his hands and looked down. He shouldn't have messed with it. He took slow, deep breaths and tried to ignore the wave of anxiety that would come next. “Hey.” Cap said, then, when he didn't move, “Look at me.”

He complied. Cap was leaning on a workbench a few feet away.

“It's ok. You're not in trouble. I'm glad you were checking it out. I know technology now is different. Go ahead.”

He remained still, not sure if the offer was a trap or an order. Finally, he raised his hand and did the gesture to spin the picture.

“Try,” Cap touched his finger tips together then pulled his hands apart. “This.”

He did and the pieces flew apart from each other as it had been the day before. 

Cap reached up and grabbed a piece. It came away from the rest. Cap tossed it at him and, instinctively, he caught it. He stared, confused at his hand. The piece Cap had tossed, one of the connection points for muscles, rested weightless in his palm. He reached out and picked it up with his thumb and forefinger. He was able to spin and move it like he had the real thing in his hand. He put the piece back where Cap had grabbed it from.

Cap was smiling. “You always were a huge science nerd.” He said. “Of course you'd be down here figuring out how this stuff worked. Where else would you be?”

He moved his hands, carefully returning the arm to how it looked when Tony left. “Any plans for today?” Cap asked, once he was done.

“Gym.” He said and Cap nodded. “'N my name?” He added uncertainly. 

“Yeah. Of course.” Cap said, pushing up from where he'd been leaned on the bench. “If you want, I can show you how the machines work?” Cap asked.

He nodded. It was preferable to having to work out each one himself. They went to the apartment, changed, and took the elevator up to the gym. The man went machine by machine, showing him how to use each one. Some were easier to figure out than others. Once Cap showed him everything, Cap moved to one of the punching bags.

He started on the treadmill, starting at a jog then moving up to a run. That he could still do. His eyes closed as he settled into the steady pace. It was easier than running outside, no fear of potholes or rocks. He moved through the equipment, trying each out. He had favorites right off. He was pleased that, in spite of the fact that he looked like a skeleton he could still get a solid workout. 

He was trying out one of the arm workout machines when the man suggested they move to the pool. He was drenched in sweat and the memory of the warm water made him nod. Cap left to grab their swimsuits and he took the elevator alone to the pool.

He sat and pulled off his shoes and socks while he waited. He stood when the elevator opened and caught the swimsuit Cap tossed him. “Showers are over here.”

Frowning, he followed. If they were getting in the pool, why did they need to shower? Cap must have noticed his expression, as he spoke again, “Gotta rinse off the sweat before getting in the pool.”

He nodded, following Cap into the showers. He stepped into the small stall, pulling the dark curtain before starting the water. It was warm and felt wonderful against his already tensing muscles. Once he had rinsed off, he pulled on the swimsuit. The inside was a strange mesh material. It didn't feel like enough clothes, but Cap had said it was how swimsuits looked. No reason to question. 

He heard Cap pull back the curtain as he finished getting the suit on then stepped out as well. While his swimsuit was black, Cap's was a lighter blue that matched his eyes. “Ready?” Cap asked then, without waiting for an answer, headed for the pool. 

He dove into the water, immediately loving the warmth of the water pressing in around him. Memories whispered through his mind, swimming in the ocean during the summer, warm, happy memories, then as his lungs started to burn softly from lack of air, another memory. His head hurt and the water was like ice. There was a boat above him.  _ Docks. _

He surfaced and took a deep breath. His eyes found Cap. “I hurt my head and fell off the docks?” He had asked, before realizing he was speaking aloud.

Cap swam over until he was treading water a few feet away. “Yeah. Someone at the docks was being a dick and swung a pulley too hard. It hit you in the forehead. You got knocked out and fell into the water. It was cold enough to shock you awake. Good thing, too, you nearly drowned. God, you scared me that day. You were more than an hour late getting home, still coughing up sea water.” A small smile slid across his face, wiping away the look of concern. “You remembered?”

“Yeah.” He said. As Cap had spoken, the memory had filled out, details, missing originally, returning. He could remember being disoriented from pain and dizziness. “I kept taking wrong turns or missing turns. Sun was set before I was home.”

“Yeah, it was.” Cap said, his voice soft and warm. “You don't have to, but I really enjoy you telling me what you remembered.” 

He nodded. It felt strange to talk about, so he slipped back under the water. When he surfaced again, Cap didn't ask any more questions. He swam laps, working the ache back into his body.

By the time Cap called him over, he was comfortably sore all over. “You ready to eat?” He asked. “We got up late enough, it would technically be dinner now.”

He nodded and pulled himself up and out of the pool. “Gotta shower again,” Cap told him, “Chemicals in the pool that aren't great for you.”

He followed him back into the showers, where he scrubbed again under the warm water. He heard Cap finish first. “Shit, meant to grab us clothes.” He said. A towel was tossed over the curtain rod. He turned off the water and dried off before stepping out. Cap had his towel wrapped around his waist. The other man turned away when he stepped out. “I'll make sure Jarvis doesn't let the elevator stop on any other floors.”

Per Cap's promise, they were not interrupted on the brief trip upstairs. He carried his dirty clothes into his room and changed into clean ones. He returned to the living room. Cap was already in the kitchen cooking when he came in. 

“Hey, why don't you grab a book and you can hang out. Food will be ready in 30.”

He nodded and moved to the book shelves. Some appeared to be educational, which he passed over. While he would probably need to read those at some point, he was pretty sure it wasn't what Cap meant. The selection of other things to read was overwhelming, so he settled on the first cover that looked interesting and returned to the couch. The first line he had to read and reread over and over. His mind just couldn't focus. The smell of food, the ache of his muscles, and the sound of Cap moving around the kitchen seemed to push out anything else. 

By the fifth or sixth time he read the first line, he felt himself focusing as some long forgotten part of his mind began to picture what he read. He was on page 23, when a plate of food appeared hovering in his peripheral vision. “Thank you.” He said, taking the plate and setting it on the table, before turning a page.

“Hey.” Cap's voice pulled him away from the top of page 31. “You need to eat. Your food is getting cold and I promise the book will still be here after dinner.” The man passed over a bookmark, light green with a soft tassel. He slid it in, eyes catching a few more lines of text as he slowly closed the book and set it on the coffee table. He ate fast, faster than he'd meant to, but he was hungry after the long workout. He had seconds, when the man offered, and finally felt full. He set his plate on the coffee table.

“Do you still want to work on your name tonight? We were in the gym a pretty long time.”

He nodded. He needed to work on that too.

“Ready?” Cap asked.

He nodded. 

“Your name is Bucky.”

He had less than a second to recognize the pain before he was in a tiny apartment. It was raining. Buckets, cups, and bowls littered the floor, catching water as it fell. He was on an old couch. He sat up. Someone sat by the window, their body distorted, scratchy. He couldn't see them. He did recognize the sketchbook sitting in their lap. Hands moved quickly, drawing something out of view. He stood, covering the distance to look. Zola's face filled his vision. 

“He's remembering.” An unnamed scientist spoke to Zola, who turned from his face to look at them. 

“Freeze him.” Zola said.

Dread filled his chest, “No.” He rasped. “Please, no.”

The scientists were moving now, swarming in. Hands pulled him up, pushing him back into the chamber. He scrabbled weakly, trying to push them away, but also not putting any strength into it. He knew what happened when he tried to injure scientists.

His back thumped into the chamber. The scientists began to insert the leads as he still struggled. He was careful not to knock them out as he pushed back against the hands. The door closed and, in his peripheral vision, he saw liquid sliding through the lines. The cold hit his flesh, making his muscles twitch and shiver. He could feel the cold starting to deaden his mind. Never fast enough, why couldn't he just sleep. The cold across his body turned to pain. Horrible, burning, stabbing pain covered every inch of his body. He closed his eyes against it. With a final breath, he fell asleep.

His eyes snapped back. Cap was watching him. “You back?” His voice was soft. 

He nodded. 

Cap smiled. “That was a lot faster than normal.” 

“Again?” He asked. As much as he hated the pain and the memories of Zola, the first memory, the apartment, he wanted that memory again. 

“Yeah. Again.”

Cap nodded, “Ready?”

He nodded back.

“Bucky.”

Immediately, ice water plunged over him. Reflexively, he gasped, cold water filled his lungs. Panic set in, he started to try to swim up. His head collided painfully with something solid. His hands struggled for purchase. After what felt like an hour, but was probably only seconds, his brain supplied  _ boat. _ He kicked hard, his hands pulling any knot he could find to drag himself up.

His head broke the surface. Wracking coughs shook his body as the noise of the docks assaulted his ears. He tread water to the docks edge. Several men lowered a rope. He grabbed it, but as soon as they started to tug, his strength failed and he fell back into the water. 

He swam back to the rope, wrapping it around his right arm. His whole body was shaking from the frigid water, making wrapping his arm tough. Once it was secured the men pulled. He was certain his arm was going to come out of socket as he was pulled up by it, but finally he was back on land.

He crawled a few feet before collapsing into the rough wood. His coughing wet, he finally stumbled to his feet and into one of the warehouses. A few men found blankets for him to bundle up in. A dockmaster came and he explained what happened, but otherwise he was left alone. 

When the bell rang to go home, he stood. The world spun hard and he braced on the wall. He stumbled the first few steps. He had mostly dried in the intervening hours. His shoes were still wet and quietly sloshed with each step he took. 

Once he was in the city streets, all the landmarks and houses blurred together. He couldn't remember the turns needed to get home. He recognized street names but couldn't remember if he should turn or not. He must have gone too far, the streets looked strange now. He doubled back and found another familiar street, turning. 

The sun set and still he was lost. The spinning had stopped but he still wasn’t sure where he was. He turned down a new street and someone called his name from the porch. The person stood and ran the few houses down, arms closing around him.

“Buck, where have you been?” The person asked. “I was so worried. My God, your head.”

He heard his voice reply, echoing and distant “Why are you outside? You're going to catch a cold.”

The person started to speak but, instead, Zola's voice filled his mind. “Soldier, report.”

_ No.  _ He wasn't done with this memory, he wasn't going to go to the lab with the scientists and the torture. 

But the world was fading away, blackness 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

December 15

The next two weeks seemed to settle into something of a schedule. Each morning he would wake up, shower and get dressed. Some mornings, when he came out of his room, Cap would already be up and cooking. Other times, he would find him asleep on the couch. One morning, Cap was still asleep in bed when he got up.

If Cap wasn't already cooking he would take over making breakfast. Once it was ready, they would sit on the couch and eat. After breakfast, he would go straight to the gym unless Tony or Bruce needed him in the lab. 

Most days Cap came, too, following silently to the gym or lab. Twice a week, he would be on his own, Cap having a regular appointment to attend. 

One morning, toward the end of the second week, instead of going to the gym he went and saw Natalia and they sat in relative silence and cleaned more of her guns.

Lunch was something he and Cap always had together, as well, sitting on their respective couches.

The afternoons were less structured. Some days he would swim or watch T.V. Other times he would lay on the couch and read or take Pup up to the roof to run with her. 

Cap would normally be with him if he left but sometimes he let him go alone. Often he would spend the time on a computer, sitting quietly on the other couch. 

After dinner, they would work on his name. He remembered new memories, mainly about the apartment he and Cap had shared or about working on the docks. Normally the first and second time they tried he could push away the memories of torture before they started but by the third time the fatigue on his mind prevented him from fighting it away.

Cap didn't like to try more than three times once he found that out. Cap said they had time, there was no reason to push. Still he wanted to, secretly loved the memories that would come before the bad. They made it worth it. If that was the only way he was going to really remember those times the feeling of contentment that came with those memories was worth dealing with Zola after.

That morning Cap had a meeting and he had planned to go to the gym when Jarvis told him Tony requested him in the lab. He stepped into the elevator and rode down to the lab. 

Bruce and Tony were standing around the glowing blue computer. Red and white flashed on the blue intermittently. “Hey, Voldemort! Bruce needs to check something.”

“Tony couldn't you pick a different name for him?” Bruce huffed. 

Tony waved him off. “Come over, left arm out.” Tony demonstrated his arm at waist height, wrist up. He mimicked the motion. “Ok, J.”

The blue turned to the outline of his arm, white nerves glowing. Tony picked up a metal pin. He tapped the tip to his right shoulder. It wasn't sharp. “Good?” Tony asked.

“Yeah.” He said. 

“Good. Close your eyes, let me know if you can feel this.”

He didn't like it when Tony made him close his eyes but he complied. He heard the tick of metal on metal but couldn't feel anything.

“No.” 

Another tick. He felt that one. “Yes.”

Bruce hummed, closer to where the blue had been then to his side. 

Tick. “Yes.”

Tick. “Yes.”

Tick. “No.”

Tick. “Yes.”

The sound of the elevator doors opening made him tense. “Just Pepper.” Tony said, bringing the pen down again. 

“Ye-” 

An alarm chirped making his whole body freeze.

“Jarvis. What's going on?” Tony's voice sounded uncertain. His eyes snapped open. Tony had taken several steps back, his eyes moving to one of the computers.

“Men in tactical gear with automatic rifles have entered the main lobby. Floors are safely in lock down but the guards have been overwhelmed.” 

“Got it.” Tony said, his voice suddenly firm. “Bruce?” Tony asked, moving across the lab. 

“Going.” Bruce said, already leaving the room. 

“Pepper, take him to a safe room.” Tony said. Tony held up his hands and flashes of red flew across the lab covering his hands in metal that extended up his arms. His legs were covered next, red and gold up to his knees. Still more pieces flew to him covering his body in red and gold. As the last piece covered his face a section of wall slid open revealing sky and Tony flew out.

He stood rooted to the spot. His heart was pounding, lungs unable to pull in enough air. They were here. They were coming for him. They would take him back and wipe his mind and turn him back into a machine, a gun to be aimed and fired according to their will.

Someone close was speaking. “James!” He blinked. That was his name wasn't it? He turned his head to see Pepper, her hand out waiting for him to take it. “We need to get to a safe room. Come on.” She told him, moving her hand.

He took it. Her fingers felt tiny and delicate in his. She pulled him into a small door in the far corner of the room. She guided him in first then stepped inside. The door closed behind them, a massive heavy noise as locks in the door engaged. He moved across the room to a couch and sat. 

“Jarvis keep me updated on Tony, please.” Pepper said.

Her heels clicked on the concrete floor. His head pounded and he still couldn't get enough air. “James, stay with me.” Pepper said, her voice firm. 

He brought his eyes up to watch her. She was pacing. His eyes tracked her. Every beat of his heart sounded like the thud of Jack boots coming across the lab. 

Jarvis spoke suddenly making him jump, “Three hostiles down. Five left. Mr Stark has sustained no injuries.”

Pepper, who had paused in her pacing resumed.

A thud on the door made them both jump. “Cap is requesting access.”

“Yes. Yes, let him in.” Pepper said, her voice still stable.

The door groaned softly as it opened. As soon as he would fit, Cap slid in. 

“Hey.” Pepper said, smiling. 

“Are you both ok?” Cap asked, looking between him and Pepper.

“He was really upset.” Pepper said. “I'm sorry, Cap. He was just frozen, I had to use his name to get him to move.” 

“His name?” Cap said, eyes turning to catch his.

“Yeah, James?” he turned to look at her but she had only been saying it for Cap. She wasn't looking in his direction.

Cap huffed. “Of course calling him James wouldn't matter.” He said with a smirk. “How's Tony? J, can we get the feed?”

“Is that a good idea?” Pepper asked, a hand on Cap's arm.

“You good,  _ James?” _ Cap asked.

He nodded, not understanding the emphasis the other man placed on it.

A computer appeared on the wall showing, what had to be, the lobby. Tony, in the strange red suit, was flying above men in black tactical gear. One of the men he'd already taken down was bleeding on the ground. His stomach tensed like he'd been kicked in the gut and he turned away from the computer. 

His eyes snapped back when Cap said, “Didn't know Clint was here.” 

“He just arrived.” Jarvis said, then “All hostiles down.”

“Do they need any help with triage?” Cap asked. 

“All injured civilians have already been taken by medical personnel.” Jarvis said. “All are expected to make a full recovery.”

Cap nodded. “If you want to gather everyone I'll get some food started.” He said to Pepper.

“That sounds wonderful.” She said smiling.

Cap turned and covered the space between them. “James, you ok?” He asked, moving to kneel at eye level. 

“Yes.” He said immediately. Yes was the right answer but as Cap watched him he became increasingly aware he still couldn't get enough air. His heart was still pounding. The sound of the door groaning open had him lurching to get away from the men coming to take him. When he looked over he saw Pepper disappearing around the corner.

“Hey.” His eyes rolled back to Cap's as the other man spoke. “Tell me five different things you can see.”

“You, computer, wall, floor, chair.” He said.

Immediately, Cap said “Four things you can touch.”

He frowned, “Couch, you, shirt, wall.”

“Three things you can hear.” Cap said.

“Your breathing, my breathing, my heartbeat.”

“Two things you can smell.”

“Soap, you.”

“Good. One more thing you can see?” Cap said.

“Couch.”

“Good. Now, listen to my breathing and you try to do the same.”

He complied, doing his best to imitate the slow deep breaths Cap was taking. It took several minutes before he could manage it.

“Good,” Cap said after his fifth slow breath. “Why were you afraid?”

He tensed but Cap tapped his knee. “Keep breathing like me till you can answer.”

“They would take me.” He said. 

Cap nodded. “You're safe here. No one will let anyone take you. But for what it's worth, they weren't Hydra. I took out what was left of Hydra. Ready to go get some food?”

He was ready to leave the room but food made his stomach churn. He settled on saying yes.

“That was called a panic attack.” Cap said as they left the room. “It's something that you might experience occasionally, especially as we break HYDRA's programming. Just try to remember what I told you. It helps.” 

He nodded. “After a fight we normally all get together for awhile and hang out. Normally I'll cook something.” Cap explained. He nodded again. When the elevator opened he recognized it as one of the floors Cap had told him was a common space. Bruce, Natalia, Clint, Tony and Pepper were already there when they arrived. 

Bruce was standing at the window looking down. Probably watching the men get taken away, he realized. Clint and Nat sat together on the couch, talking quietly. Nat was leaning against his arm and smiling as he spoke. Tony sat at the table, still in the red armor but with the helmet removed. Pepper sat in front of him dabbing something on his split lip.

A general murmur of greeting went up as they entered. Cap moved away into the kitchen. He felt tired, like he had been fighting just as hard as Tony. But he hadn't fought. He'd hidden away in a safe room like a child, unable to stand the sight of blood on the screen. His stomach turned again at the memory of it.

He stood watching them all. He had seen this before, with Hydra. After missions, the group would relax together, talking and laughing while they prepped him to return to base to wipe and ice. He didn't belong here. He should return to his room, wait for Cap to come back. 

He turned to leave when Pepper called to him, “James, can you come here for a second, sweetie?” 

He froze, aware not only that she was watching but that everyone else had turned eyes to him as well. He took a breath before moving quietly through the room to stand next to the table. 

“Go ahead, Tony.” Pepper prompted after he stood several long moments in silence.

“This plate here is jammed and preventing it from retracting. Think you can pull it into alignment?” Tony showed him the plate he meant. He could see it jammed slightly sideways, knocking it out of the track.

“Still don't see how you managed to damage your suit fighting a bunch of civilians with guns.” Clint called, laughter in his tone.

“You know what?” Tony called, a smile on his face too. “I had just done some upgrades and hadn't even had a chance to test them--”

“So you thought you would by running it into a wall?” Clint called.

Everyone was laughing. He carefully pulled the plate back into position. Immediately the armor retracted in on itself. “I have got to change that suit design.” Tony said as more armor broke away flying, he guessed, back to the lab.

“So, James, huh?” Tony asked. “Can't hear your nickname without a trigger but your real name is no problem. Who knew?”

He stood still, uncertain how exactly he should respond to that. “Hey, Soldier, come over here for awhile.” Nat's voice was soft. He moved to where she and Clint sat, dropping into the couch across from them. 

She and Clint continued to talk but he only picked up a few words as his head dropped back into the couch and he closed his eyes. The longer he sat there the harder it was to be still. This wasn't his place. He shouldn't be here. His fingers twisted on his pants, his muscles twitched. 

Cap spoke quietly, his voice close even though he hadn't heard him approach, “James, you ok?”

“My name isn't James!” The words boomed out of his mouth as if on instinct alone. He had a split second to recognize how familiar the words sounded before he froze, his heart pounding. He'd finally crossed a line. He would be punished but he couldn't face it here. Not in front of everyone. He ran.

The elevator doors managed to close before Cap even moved. He wasn't sure where it was taking him but when the doors opened to the apartment he was glad. He shot into his room, closed the door and paced. By the third circle around his room he couldn't keep moving. He clenched and relaxed his hands, bounced on the balls of his feet but couldn't calm. Why was it taking him so long? What was he getting that he would need this much time?

He crossed the room again, this time wedging his left arm into the corner before folding to the floor, eyes closed. 

“Hey.” Cap's voice lurched him out of whatever fog had filled his mind. How hadn't he heard him come in? He reflexively tried to push himself back with his feet but only managed to scrabble as his back was already firmly on the wall. His eyes snapped open. He wanted to see what was coming, whatever the punishment was.

Cap was moving slowly across the room, both hands up. “Think you can do the 5 things you can see?” He asked.

A bubble of frustration popped in his chest. He'd already been waiting, couldn't he just punish him so they could move on? Why did he have to make him wait? “No.” He replied. If he was going to be punished, what was one more refusal?

“That's ok.” Cap said. “Come on, let's get you to bed. You need to rest.” 

“Why are you making me wait?” he was shouting again. Panic and fear driving the words out of his lungs before he could stop them. “Just get it over with!”

Cap spoke, his voice calm, “Get what over with?”

He wanted him to say it. Humiliation before punishment. Fine. “Punishment,” he said. He wasn't shouting anymore. He suddenly felt exhausted. 

Cap moved towards him but then stopped, leaned back. “I'm not punishing you, James. No one here is ever going to punish you. You're safe.” His voice was even quieter than before.

He was distantly aware he was shaking and that his breath was coming in gasps. His whole body ached. He swallowed before speaking. “Bed, dresser, wall, clothes, clock.”

The man frowned just a moment before catching on. “Good. Now touch.”

He nodded, “Carpet, shirt, jeans, you.”

Cap shifted from where he had been kneeling till he was sitting cross legged on the floor.

“Hear?” He prompted.

“City, heartbeat, your voice.” Then without waiting for the next prompt, “Carpet, soap.”

“Good. One final thing you can see?”

He looked up, “Ceiling.”

“Good. Now, deep breaths.” 

He tried but each time he got more than a short gasp into his lungs a hiccup cut it off.

“Jesus.” Cap said with a quiet breath. “I hate this. Can I put an arm around you?” Cap asked trying to move forward. 

He jumped away, thudding hard into the wall.

Cap moved back, hands up once more. “It okay. Just keep trying to breathe, ok?” He said softly.

He wasn't sure how long he sat, hiccuping and trying to pull in air before it finally started to get easier. Cap had closed his eyes but was still pulling in slow deep breaths. 

By the seventh or eighth time he was able to mimic the deep breath, Cap spoke again. “Good. Let's get you out of that wet shirt and into bed, ok?”

He frowned. Wet shirt? He reached down and the front of his shirt was soaked. He didn't feel sweaty. Had he been crying? He pulled it over his head and tossed it to the pile of dirty clothes before moving to his dresser.

“Get some pajama pants, too.” Cap told him. 

He turned to glance over his shoulder but Cap was standing with his back to him. He changed, then moved to the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow he could feel sleep trying to crowd in on him. He pushed it off long enough for Cap to leave, then let it flow over him.

The asset was standing on the platform for a train. Zola stood next to him. More than three dozen men, with guns trained, stood around in a half circle. Before the asset, a man stood. He was trembling, tears staining his dirty face. 

“Soldier?” Zola spoke.

He heard the asset’s voice speak. “Ready to comply.”

He was trapped within the asset's mind. He could watch events unfold through the asset's eyes, like a projection on a movie screen, but could do nothing more to stop the asset’s actions than he could of the actors in the movie shown.

He screamed, raged against his mental cage. It mattered little. The asset was a machine. There was no use for thought. Only actions were needed. 

Distantly, a train whistle blew and the man jumped. He fell to his knees and begged. Zola was smiling.

“When the train gets close, shove this man in front of it.” Zola commanded.

“Understood.” Said the asset.

He roared, throwing himself against the cage. He had to fight this. Had to make it stop.

A voice, one of the scientists, spoke “His eyes are still crazy. Need to cover them before he's used in real missions.”

Zola looked up at the asset then nodded to someone, the scientist.

The train was getting louder, now. He had to get out. Time was getting short. He pushed with all his strength, trying.

The asset was moving, lifting the man with the horrible metal arm, half dragging, half carrying him to the edge of the platform.

“No!” He screamed but it didn't matter. The movie kept playing and he watched, unable to look away as the asset tossed the man into the train. Blood and viscera exploded away from the front of the train as the man disappeared and only parts remained.

  
  


He lurched awake, heart hammering. He threw himself out of bed. Moving quickly to the bathroom he washed his face in cold water. At least he was in control of his movements.

After a few deep breaths, he spoke “Time?” 

“It is currently 5:30 p.m.” JARVIS said.

He debated remaining in his room but that felt like hiding. He'd done that plenty, already. He slipped into the living room. Cap was in the kitchen, as predictable as always. He sat on the couch and Pup jumped up next to him, her head on his chest as she squirmed. He rubbed her head and ears and watched the other man's back. He wondered if he had been lying, waiting to catch him off guard with punishment at a later time. If he had, it would be a blessing. He could handle a punishment now.

Cap turned to place a pan on the counter and smiled. “Hey you're awake. Feeling better?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good timing, food is almost ready.” He said, still smiling, before turning back to the stove.

He picked up his book and removed the placeholder before trying to relax and read. It took awhile but, finally, he was able to focus on the words. Pup curled up against his leg, uncharacteristically affectionate considering there was food being cooked. The soft click of a plate being set on the table brought his attention away from what he read.

Cap settled into his spot on the couch across from him. Cap looked different, tired maybe? He couldn't place his facial expression. 

He collected up his plate and ate. His body, both used to having lunch and having used an excess of energy earlier, immediately informed him how hungry he was. He finished off his plate and retrieved seconds while Cap still just pushed his food around. Once he finished eating and set down his plate, Cap did, too.

“We need to talk about something.” Cap said.

He tensed but waited. “New ground rule.” Cap elaborated. “You can yell and scream and cry, hell you can even hit me if you think it will help, but no matter what, I'm not going to punish you, ok? I never want you to think you have to worry about that again. I know you probably can't  _ believe _ me right now but I just needed you to hear it.” He paused a moment, then continued. “Do you understand?”

He didn't. Not really. He waited a long moment before answering. “No.”

Cap let out a huff, then smiled. “Yeah, didn't really expect you would that easily. So, earlier you yelled at me right?”

“Yes.”

“You're not in trouble for yelling. I'm not mad or upset and you won't be punished for it. If you yell again, in the future, you still won't be punished for it. If you make a mistake, we will talk about it, but you won't get hurt or starved or anything. I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, after….after everything, but just try to remember that, ok?”

He nodded. He could do that.

“You want to work on your name tonight or take a day off? It's been a fucked up day.”

He started to immediately respond with his name but paused. He was tired enough he doubted he could stop the bad memories. He'd had enough bad memories. “Take a day.”

He was surprised when the other man smiled. “Good. I think you could use it.” 

He nodded, before reclining with his book. Pup hopped up and wiggled until she was tucked behind his legs. He was only distantly aware of the setting of the sun through the windows.

Cap had finished eating and cleaned the dishes. He heard, more than saw, him sit and turn on the TV. Faintly, over the sound of the TV, he could hear the soft scratch of the man's pencils in the sketchbook.   
  


December 16

He didn't remember setting the book down on the coffee table when he woke up covered under a blanket. Pup was still laying on his legs, asleep. It was completely dark outside. The soft glow of the light from the bathroom lit the hall. 

He sat slowly and rubbed at his face. “Time?” He rasped out before standing to go get a drink. 

“It is currently 6:25 a.m.” Jarvis said.

He walked sleepily into his bedroom and turned on the shower. He grabbed his clothes before showering. He shaved and dressed then returned to the living room. He turned on the coffee maker before standing and watching the city. The sun had risen, while he was washing, and now shone softly in the morning haze. He noticed some of the buildings were lit in red and green. Had they been like that before and he just hadn't noticed?

A shuffle behind him alerted him to Cap entering the room. He wore pajama pants but no shirt. He wandered sleepily to get a mug, which he filled up at the coffee maker, before sitting at the table. It was the first time he'd seen him sit there. He filled his own mug at the coffee maker before standing near the table. 

“You can sit.” Cap said roughly. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” He said but didn't move. He remembered at the house when he'd tried sitting in the small wooden chair, the panic. It had felt like the moments before the wipe. Hesitantly, he pulled the chair to the left of the man and sat. It still made his lungs feel tight but he was at least able to stay firmly seated in the apartment.

Cap smiled and took a drink from his mug. “So, are we back to calling you Voldemort?” He asked, smile reaching his eyes.

“No, James,” he said, cradling his cup in his hands, letting the warmth soak into his skin.

Cap nodded. “It was nice to see you smile, yesterday.”

He frowned, “Smile?” When had he smiled? When would he, during everything?

“Yeah. When Clint was ribbing Tony. You were smiling.”

He nodded, a strange feeling settling in his stomach. Weapons shouldn't smile.

“I wish I could hear what was going on in that mind of yours.” Cap said, his voice quieter than before.

He brought his head up, his eyes meeting Cap's. They were so vibrantly blue. 

“Hey, can you start to teach me how to do the maintenance on your arm?” Cap asked.

“Yeah.” He said.

“After coffee though.” Cap said quickly. “I'm a zombie still.”

“What?” He said, before he realized he was speaking.

Cap paused a moment then laughed. It was a deep, rich sound that made his chest feel warm. “Zombie. Umm,” he pulled out his phone, messed with it a moment, before holding it out to him. A cartoon of a human figure with green skin and exposed teeth was pulled up. “I won't do like Tony and show you a picture that would make sense.” He said. “Basically it's supposed to be a reanimated corpse that shuffles around really slow. It's all fake but make up now is a lot better than it used to be, so it can be pretty intense.”

He handed back the phone and stood. He grabbed the tools from the bedroom before returning to the table. Cap smiled as he sat back down. He extended his hand, palm up and slid the plates into maintenance. “This,” he said, indicating the plate that wrapped around his palm and the back of his hand, “Is plate 1.”

Cap nodded, his empty mug set aside, as he leaned in to watch. This felt familiar, explaining his arm to a new handler. 

He handed off the screwdriver and indicated which screw was first. Cap's hand covered his, rotating it softly so he could better see the screw.

First screw out, he rolled his hand over to indicate the second screw. “Do they have to be done in this order now that the charge is out?” Cap asked, as he began to remove the next one. 

He had wondered the same thing, gone as far as to put the screwdriver on the head of an incorrect screw, but the overwhelming sense of fear had stopped him from turning it. “Don't know.” He offered and Cap nodded. 

“No reason to test it.” 

He was more attentive than most who were learning this. He felt strange, thinking of Cap as a handler. He was getting too comfortable with the other man. Once the final screw was out, he instructed, “Slide the plate towards my fingers, it will pull the metal away from them too.”

Cap carefully slide the plate away. The horrible sensation of someone peeling away his flesh made him sit up a bit straighter. Once it was off, Cap leaned in close. 

The metal skeleton was most visible there, each finger coming to a metal pad. He rolled his hand over, palm up. Thin, finger sized tubes wrapped in nerves covered the pads and bottoms of reach finger, as well as across his palm. 

“So, the white are nerves, that's how you feel things.” Cap said hesitantly. 

He nodded.

“Turn your hand over. What is the black?” He asked, pointing but not touching.

“They work like tendons and ligaments on a regular hand. It gives me range of motion.”

Cap's turn to nod. “No nerves on the back of your hand?” 

“No.” 

“And the metal is the skeleton.” Cap finished.

He nodded again.

“Ok, that all makes sense. What pulls the corded black to make your fingers move?”

He handed back the screwdriver instead of replying. After plates two and three were off, the pneumatic servos and red line were visible. Cap watched as he ran through systems check on his fingers. He stopped just short of touching each finger tip to the others to avoid crashing the nerve bundles into each other. Each servo made a quiet sound as he moved. 

“What if that line ever got nicked or something?” Cap asked, watching the flow of blood through the red line. 

“It's reinforced and shouldn't cut easily. If possible, the blood would be rerouted. If not, plates would need to be removed and the cut sealed as quickly as possible.”

“I don't like that part.” Cap said. 

He didn't have a response to that, so he simply waited.

“Then this is…” Cap pointed.

“Pneumatic muscle. If you take off the rest of the plates it will be easier to show you.”

He guided Cap through removing each plate. Cap was silent as they worked, his brows knitted slightly as he focused. He moved quickly and carefully. Any time Cap needed his arm in a different position Cap’s warm hands gently moved his arm into position. 

As new lines were exposed, he pointed them out but Cap didn't have any other questions. Either he understood well enough without or he would have several when they were done. Once all the plates were off and his arm was completely exposed, Cap leaned back. The almost gridlike metal structure that held the plates stuck out only milliliters away from the internal working if his arm.

He showed how each of the dozens of pneumatic muscles worked together to move his arm. Cap watched closely. “And your blood powers it all?” 

“Yeah, previously it was just pneumatic fluid but it didn't respond well to freezing.” The response, wholey preconditioned, set his heart pounding. 

“Well, at least you don't have to worry about freezing anymore.” Cap said easily, a smile on his face. “You know Tony would shit kittens if you ever showed him everything like this.”

“He's seen.”

“The projection? Yeah, Jarvis does a good job but seeing it,  _ actually _ seeing it, that's different. Ready to walk me through getting these back on? I won't lie, I don't remember anything about where the screws go.”

Cap reset each plate and, with prompting, carefully tightened each screw. By the time he finished the sun had risen in the sky. “So how do the plates move?” He asked, once everything was set again.

He turned his arm, to make it more visible, then demonstrated. “They can slide back and forth on the same tracks they remove from. The screws keep them from shifting off all the way. The same tracks provide up and down movement to lock down for more power or open for more air flow.”

“How does locking down give more power?” Cap asked.

“It tightens the space, giving the muscles more to brace on. Also, when they are locked, it lets the metal hold some of the strain.”

Cap nodded, then asked “Breakfast?” as he stood. 

He nodded. He moved to the living room. As he passed the window he remembered the lights he'd seen. “Why are there red and green lights?” He asked, looking back out the window.

“What?” Cap asked, turning then, “Oh, they light them up like that for Christmas.”

He blinked, half a dozen memories jumping forward. How had he forgotten about Christmas? Cap was smiling at him. “Remember that a bit, huh?” He asked, laughter in his tone. “You always did love Christmas. It's coming up. We don't normally do the gift thing, as much, but we all have dinner together if you want to come?”

He started to nod but stopped, remembering the day before. Cap spoke again after a moment. “No one is upset about yesterday James.” 

He nodded. Would Cap tell him if they were? Maybe Cap wouldn't punish him but they would. 

“Think about it, ok?” Cap asked before turning back to cook. 

After breakfast, he was relieved when he got on the elevator, said “Gym”, and Jarvis didn't inject that Tony or Bruce needed him. He started his normal routine but quickly stopped. His skin itched. He felt  _ something _ but he wasn't sure what. It felt white hot in his chest.

He moved to one of the heavy bags. He used them pretty rarely, it was mainly Cap who liked them. Still, he wrapped his right hand all the same, took up stance and began a rotation. It was definitely what he had been needing.

He jumped when he heard the thud of fists but quickly determined it was only Cap. He must have finished his meeting early. 

He relaxed back into the rhythm if his fists on the bag. Sweat dripped into his eyes but he ignored it. He didn't need to see to keep up the steady thud. 

He was aware that Cap had moved on, was in some other part of the gym doing some other workout, but he couldn't stop. The heat in his chest was fading. With a few final punches, it faded away all together and he suddenly felt empty.

He stopped, his breath coming in huffs. “Want to go swim?” Cap asked from a few feet away. 

“Yeah.” He said.

Cap smiled. “I'll go get our stuff and meet you up there?” 

He nodded and headed for the elevator. 

By the time he jumped into the water he felt normal again. The warm water pressing in on him felt safe and familiar. He surfaced, watching Cap swim. Cap's movements weren't the smooth, practiced grace that his were. He wondered if Cap hadn't swam as a child.

Frowning, he shook his head, banishing the thought. What did he care if his handler had swam as a child? But that wasn't exactly right, either. Cap's childhood had been his childhood, too, somehow, so maybe it did matter. But why could he swim so much better? He tried, without success, to bring up memories of the other man swimming at the beach, but none came. 

Frustrated, he dropped underwater, stayed until his lungs burned and the unwanted thoughts melted away.

That night, after dinner, Cap asked, “Before we start working on your name, I want to try to see if your full name affects you. Your actual name, not your nickname.” He expanded, a smile on his face. “Is that ok?”

He shrugged, “Yeah.” He could remember Cap saying his full name when they first met. He'd been in so much pain he had no memory of his actual name. He realized, as he waited, that even when Cap said his nickname the pain was almost non-existent now.

“So your full name is James Buchanan Barnes.” Cap said. 

His mind hummed, like perhaps there was a memory there, but he couldn't quite see it. Otherwise, nothing. “You ok?” Cap checked.

He nodded.

“Good!” Cap was smiling. “That's one less thing to worry about! Ready for the real thing?”

He nodded, preparing to fight off Zola's voice.

“Bucky.”

He tensed, but nothing happened. He waited, maybe it was just delayed, but no. The only change was a slight warmth in his chest.

“Are you still…?” Cap asked.

“I, yeah.” He said, his mind struggling to process.

Cap dropped back against the couch cushions and laughed happily. The sound of it rolled over him. “You better be careful,” Cap said, “Smiling two days in a row, your face is gonna get stuck that way.”

He paused, then realized  _ joking _ . The man was joking with him.  _ Had _ he been smiling? 

Cap's voice pulled him out of his thoughts before he got too deep in them. “So, there is a good chance it will be back and forth for awhile. Sometimes, it will still affect you, then other times it won't. It may take hours, or days, or weeks for it to be well and truly broken.”

He nodded. 

“Ready?” Cap asked.

“Yeah.” 

He wasn't even sure Cap got his whole name out before the memory swallowed him. He and a couple dock buddies were moving furniture. “Watch the third step, David.” He said, carefully stepping over the loose step himself as he lifted the mattress they were carrying up so David could more clearly see it.

David hefted himself up over the step. Once inside, they took the tight staircase up to the third floor. He walked backwards into the small apartment and, going off memory, backed into the bedroom. He dropped his end onto the floor. With a grunt David did, too.

“That's the last of it.” He sighed, wiping his forehead.

“I was promised a cigarette.” Billy called from the living room. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He pushed his hair back, unsticking his hair from his sweaty forehead.

He grabbed his pack from the kitchen. “Outside.” He told them. 

“Seriously?” David said. “It's 10 outside.”

“Outside or take it to your own house.” He said, shoving David’s shoulder. 

“Don't you have another guy you're rooming with? Why isn't he here?” Ronald asked, coming through the door and tossing a pile of bedding on the couch.

“Yeah. He's at work.” He said.

“So? Make him help after!” David laughed, heading out the front door to go smoke.

“Again.” Zola's voice cut across the memory. 

He pushed against the horrible voice. A moment later, his eyes opened to see Cap watching him. 

“Good?” Cap asked.

He nodded. “Again.”

The next three times he felt a soft spin in his mind but was able to stay firmly in the present. 

After that, Cap insisted they stop for the night. Cap tossed him the remote to the TV and walked him through navigating it, explaining applications and shows. He listened, understanding some of it. When Cap prompted him to pick a show, he ended up going back to Planet Earth. He grabbed his book off the coffee table, fully intending to read, but the book ended up resting on his chest the whole night as he and Cap both watched the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

December 17

He didn't remember setting the book down on the coffee table when he woke up covered under a blanket. Pup was still laying on his legs, asleep. It was completely dark outside. The soft glow of the light from the bathroom lit the hall. 

He sat slowly and rubbed at his face. “Time?” He rasped out before standing to go get a drink. 

“It is currently 6:25 a.m.” Jarvis said.

He walked sleepily into his bedroom and turned on the shower. He grabbed his clothes before showering. He shaved and dressed then returned to the living room. He turned on the coffee maker before standing and watching the city. The sun had risen, while he was washing, and now shone softly in the morning haze. He noticed some of the buildings were lit in red and green. Had they been like that before and he just hadn't noticed?

A shuffle behind him alerted him to Cap entering the room. He wore pajama pants but no shirt. He wandered sleepily to get a mug, which he filled up at the coffee maker, before sitting at the table. It was the first time he'd seen him sit there. He filled his own mug at the coffee maker before standing near the table. 

“You can sit.” Cap said roughly. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” He said but didn't move. He remembered at the house when he'd tried sitting in the small wooden chair, the panic. It had felt like the moments before the wipe. Hesitantly, he pulled the chair to the left of the man and sat. It still made his lungs feel tight but he was at least able to stay firmly seated in the apartment.

Cap smiled and took a drink from his mug. “So, are we back to calling you Voldemort?” He asked, smile reaching his eyes.

“No, James,” he said, cradling his cup in his hands, letting the warmth soak into his skin.

Cap nodded. “It was nice to see you smile, yesterday.”

He frowned, “Smile?” When had he smiled? When would he, during everything?

“Yeah. When Clint was ribbing Tony. You were smiling.”

He nodded, a strange feeling settling in his stomach. Weapons shouldn't smile.

“I wish I could hear what was going on in that mind of yours.” Cap said, his voice quieter than before.

He brought his head up, his eyes meeting Cap's. They were so vibrantly blue. 

“Hey, can you start to teach me how to do the maintenance on your arm?” Cap asked.

“Yeah.” He said.

“After coffee though.” Cap said quickly. “I'm a zombie still.”

“What?” He said, before he realized he was speaking.

Cap paused a moment then laughed. It was a deep, rich sound that made his chest feel warm. “Zombie. Umm,” he pulled out his phone, messed with it a moment, before holding it out to him. A cartoon of a human figure with green skin and exposed teeth was pulled up. “I won't do like Tony and show you a picture that would make sense.” He said. “Basically it's supposed to be a reanimated corpse that shuffles around really slow. It's all fake but make up now is a lot better than it used to be, so it can be pretty intense.”

He handed back the phone and stood. He grabbed the tools from the bedroom before returning to the table. Cap smiled as he sat back down. He extended his hand, palm up and slid the plates into maintenance. “This,” he said, indicating the plate that wrapped around his palm and the back of his hand, “Is plate 1.”

Cap nodded, his empty mug set aside, as he leaned in to watch. This felt familiar, explaining his arm to a new handler. 

He handed off the screwdriver and indicated which screw was first. Cap's hand covered his, rotating it softly so he could better see the screw.

First screw out, he rolled his hand over to indicate the second screw. “Do they have to be done in this order now that the charge is out?” Cap asked, as he began to remove the next one. 

He had wondered the same thing, gone as far as to put the screwdriver on the head of an incorrect screw, but the overwhelming sense of fear had stopped him from turning it. “Don't know.” He offered and Cap nodded. 

“No reason to test it.” 

He was more attentive than most who were learning this. He felt strange, thinking of Cap as a handler. He was getting too comfortable with the other man. Once the final screw was out, he instructed, “Slide the plate towards my fingers, it will pull the metal away from them too.”

Cap carefully slide the plate away. The horrible sensation of someone peeling away his flesh made him sit up a bit straighter. Once it was off, Cap leaned in close. 

The metal skeleton was most visible there, each finger coming to a metal pad. He rolled his hand over, palm up. Thin, finger sized tubes wrapped in nerves covered the pads and bottoms of reach finger, as well as across his palm. 

“So, the white are nerves, that's how you feel things.” Cap said hesitantly. 

He nodded.

“Turn your hand over. What is the black?” He asked, pointing but not touching.

“They work like tendons and ligaments on a regular hand. It gives me range of motion.”

Cap's turn to nod. “No nerves on the back of your hand?” 

“No.” 

“And the metal is the skeleton.” Cap finished.

He nodded again.

“Ok, that all makes sense. What pulls the corded black to make your fingers move?”

He handed back the screwdriver instead of replying. After plates two and three were off, the pneumatic servos and red line were visible. Cap watched as he ran through systems check on his fingers. He stopped just short of touching each finger tip to the others to avoid crashing the nerve bundles into each other. Each servo made a quiet sound as he moved. 

“What if that line ever got nicked or something?” Cap asked, watching the flow of blood through the red line. 

“It's reinforced and shouldn't cut easily. If possible, the blood would be rerouted. If not, plates would need to be removed and the cut sealed as quickly as possible.”

“I don't like that part.” Cap said. 

He didn't have a response to that, so he simply waited.

“Then this is…” Cap pointed.

“Pneumatic muscle. If you take off the rest of the plates it will be easier to show you.”

He guided Cap through removing each plate. Cap was silent as they worked, his brows knitted slightly as he focused. He moved quickly and carefully. Any time Cap needed his arm in a different position Cap’s warm hands gently moved his arm into position. 

As new lines were exposed, he pointed them out but Cap didn't have any other questions. Either he understood well enough without or he would have several when they were done. Once all the plates were off and his arm was completely exposed, Cap leaned back. The almost gridlike metal structure that held the plates stuck out only milliliters away from the internal working if his arm.

He showed how each of the dozens of pneumatic muscles worked together to move his arm. Cap watched closely. “And your blood powers it all?” 

“Yeah, previously it was just pneumatic fluid but it didn't respond well to freezing.” The response, wholey preconditioned, set his heart pounding. 

“Well, at least you don't have to worry about freezing anymore.” Cap said easily, a smile on his face. “You know Tony would shit kittens if you ever showed him everything like this.”

“He's seen.”

“The projection? Yeah, Jarvis does a good job but seeing it,  _ actually _ seeing it, that's different. Ready to walk me through getting these back on? I won't lie, I don't remember anything about where the screws go.”

Cap reset each plate and, with prompting, carefully tightened each screw. By the time he finished the sun had risen in the sky. “So how do the plates move?” He asked, once everything was set again.

He turned his arm, to make it more visible, then demonstrated. “They can slide back and forth on the same tracks they remove from. The screws keep them from shifting off all the way. The same tracks provide up and down movement to lock down for more power or open for more air flow.”

“How does locking down give more power?” Cap asked.

“It tightens the space, giving the muscles more to brace on. Also, when they are locked, it lets the metal hold some of the strain.”

Cap nodded, then asked “Breakfast?” as he stood. 

He nodded. He moved to the living room. As he passed the window he remembered the lights he'd seen. “Why are there red and green lights?” He asked, looking back out the window.

“What?” Cap asked, turning then, “Oh, they light them up like that for Christmas.”

He blinked, half a dozen memories jumping forward. How had he forgotten about Christmas? Cap was smiling at him. “Remember that a bit, huh?” He asked, laughter in his tone. “You always did love Christmas. It's coming up. We don't normally do the gift thing, as much, but we all have dinner together if you want to come?”

He started to nod but stopped, remembering the day before. Cap spoke again after a moment. “No one is upset about yesterday James.” 

He nodded. Would Cap tell him if they were? Maybe Cap wouldn't punish him but they would. 

“Think about it, ok?” Cap asked before turning back to cook. 

After breakfast, he was relieved when he got on the elevator, said “Gym”, and Jarvis didn't inject that Tony or Bruce needed him. He started his normal routine but quickly stopped. His skin itched. He felt  _ something _ but he wasn't sure what. It felt white hot in his chest.

He moved to one of the heavy bags. He used them pretty rarely, it was mainly Cap who liked them. Still, he wrapped his right hand all the same, took up stance and began a rotation. It was definitely what he had been needing.

He jumped when he heard the thud of fists but quickly determined it was only Cap. He must have finished his meeting early. 

He relaxed back into the rhythm if his fists on the bag. Sweat dripped into his eyes but he ignored it. He didn't need to see to keep up the steady thud. 

He was aware that Cap had moved on, was in some other part of the gym doing some other workout, but he couldn't stop. The heat in his chest was fading. With a few final punches, it faded away all together and he suddenly felt empty.

He stopped, his breath coming in huffs. “Want to go swim?” Cap asked from a few feet away. 

“Yeah.” He said.

Cap smiled. “I'll go get our stuff and meet you up there?” 

He nodded and headed for the elevator. 

By the time he jumped into the water he felt normal again. The warm water pressing in on him felt safe and familiar. He surfaced, watching Cap swim. Cap's movements weren't the smooth, practiced grace that his were. He wondered if Cap hadn't swam as a child.

Frowning, he shook his head, banishing the thought. What did he care if his handler had swam as a child? But that wasn't exactly right, either. Cap's childhood had been his childhood, too, somehow, so maybe it did matter. But why could he swim so much better? He tried, without success, to bring up memories of the other man swimming at the beach, but none came. 

Frustrated, he dropped underwater, stayed until his lungs burned and the unwanted thoughts melted away.

That night, after dinner, Cap asked, “Before we start working on your name, I want to try to see if your full name affects you. Your actual name, not your nickname.” He expanded, a smile on his face. “Is that ok?”

He shrugged, “Yeah.” He could remember Cap saying his full name when they first met. He'd been in so much pain he had no memory of his actual name. He realized, as he waited, that even when Cap said his nickname the pain was almost non-existent now.

“So your full name is James Buchanan Barnes.” Cap said. 

His mind hummed, like perhaps there was a memory there, but he couldn't quite see it. Otherwise, nothing. “You ok?” Cap checked.

He nodded.

“Good!” Cap was smiling. “That's one less thing to worry about! Ready for the real thing?”

He nodded, preparing to fight off Zola's voice.

“Bucky.”

He tensed, but nothing happened. He waited, maybe it was just delayed, but no. The only change was a slight warmth in his chest.

“Are you still…?” Cap asked.

“I, yeah.” He said, his mind struggling to process.

Cap dropped back against the couch cushions and laughed happily. The sound of it rolled over him. “You better be careful,” Cap said, “Smiling two days in a row, your face is gonna get stuck that way.”

He paused, then realized  _ joking _ . The man was joking with him.  _ Had _ he been smiling? 

Cap's voice pulled him out of his thoughts before he got too deep in them. “So, there is a good chance it will be back and forth for awhile. Sometimes, it will still affect you, then other times it won't. It may take hours, or days, or weeks for it to be well and truly broken.”

He nodded. 

“Ready?” Cap asked.

“Yeah.” 

He wasn't even sure Cap got his whole name out before the memory swallowed him. He and a couple dock buddies were moving furniture. “Watch the third step, David.” He said, carefully stepping over the loose step himself as he lifted the mattress they were carrying up so David could more clearly see it.

David hefted himself up over the step. Once inside, they took the tight staircase up to the third floor. He walked backwards into the small apartment and, going off memory, backed into the bedroom. He dropped his end onto the floor. With a grunt David did, too.

“That's the last of it.” He sighed, wiping his forehead.

“I was promised a cigarette.” Billy called from the living room. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He pushed his hair back, unsticking his hair from his sweaty forehead.

He grabbed his pack from the kitchen. “Outside.” He told them. 

“Seriously?” David said. “It's 10 outside.”

“Outside or take it to your own house.” He said, shoving David’s shoulder. 

“Don't you have another guy you're rooming with? Why isn't he here?” Ronald asked, coming through the door and tossing a pile of bedding on the couch.

“Yeah. He's at work.” He said.

“So? Make him help after!” David laughed, heading out the front door to go smoke.

“Again.” Zola's voice cut across the memory. 

He pushed against the horrible voice. A moment later, his eyes opened to see Cap watching him. 

“Good?” Cap asked.

He nodded. “Again.”

The next three times he felt a soft spin in his mind but was able to stay firmly in the present. 

After that, Cap insisted they stop for the night. Cap tossed him the remote to the TV and walked him through navigating it, explaining applications and shows. He listened, understanding some of it. When Cap prompted him to pick a show, he ended up going back to Planet Earth. He grabbed his book off the coffee table, fully intending to read, but the book ended up resting on his chest the whole night as he and Cap both watched the show.

December 18

The next morning, he woke later than normal. He showered, shaved and came into the living room just as Cap was making plates. “Morning.” Cap said.

“Morning.” He replied, accepting the coffee passed to him. He took a long, slow drink, letting the hot liquid warm him from the inside out.

After breakfast, Cap was able to remember the screw order for the first plate and the first few screws of the second. He seemed interested in watching the movement of his fingers as he flexed and relaxed them. As he reconnected the plates, Cap let him know he had another meeting that day. He kept the surprise carefully schooled from his face. It was not normal for Cap to have meetings more than twice a week and never back to back.

“Is your left arm ever sore after working out?” Cap asked quietly as he began to reaffix the screws on the second plate.

He thought for a moment. “Not my arm, but,” he reached up and touched his chest, then his back.

Cap nodded. “Did they do anything to those muscles? Or are they just regular?”

He frowned, trying to figure out exactly how to answer. Finally, he reached out and removed the screwdriver from Cap's hand before moving it up to rest on his chest, right next to the arm’s connection to his body. Flexing his left arm, he felt the synthetic muscle moving closer to the skin. 

“So, it's both.” Cap said. His hand was warm where it rested on his chest. He probed gently at the synthetic muscle. “Where does it connect?” Cap asked.

“To the muscles around it.” He wasn't entirely sure that answered the question but Cap seemed satisfied. 

“Same on your back?” Cap asked.

“Four in the back, two in the front.” He said, becoming increasingly aware of Cap's hand, still rested on his chest. The heat of his hand had seeped into his skin.

Cap's hand dropped back to the screwdriver and began to reconnect the first plate. Once it was set, he checked his range of motion.

Cap checked his watch and hopped up. “I'm off. See you later.” He said with a smile.

He sat at the table a moment before standing and pulling back on his shirt. He considered hitting the gym before asking, “Is Nat in?” 

A few moments later, Jarvis spoke, “She says you're welcome to come up.”

He nodded and stepped into the elevator. Nat was sitting at her table and the room smelled of coffee. While she was fully dressed, the decades old scar around her wrist weren't hidden with makeup yet, she hadn't expected company this early.

“Hey there, Soldier.” She said, her voice as soft and quiet as ever. He wondered if that was her natural voice or one they had trained into her. He remembered more and more of the Red Room now, just as he remembered his own torture.

He nodded by way of greeting and moved in to sit at the table. The silence between them spread, long and peaceful. His eyes drifted shut and he relaxed 

Natalia eventually broke the silence, “So, no one has seen you in a few days. Are you good?”

“Yeah.” He said without hesitation. “Cap was able to say my name last night without…” he stopped. What exactly did he do when Cap said his name. Flashback?

She didn't seem to need the final word. “Good.” She said.

“I am remembering more,” he continued, “about the Red Room.”

One of Natalia's eyebrows rose but otherwise she was quiet.

“We spared.” 

“Yeah. We did.” She said, the slightest whisper of a smile turning up her lips.

“I used my arm against you?” He wasn't sure why, but that felt significant.

She seemed to understand the question in his tone. “It was a reward. Only the best of us went against you using both arms.” Then, after a pause, “What else do you remember?”

“Mostly Wolf Spider” He said honestly.

“Wolf Spider was your project, so that makes sense.” 

“Ballerinas.” He said after a moment, the whispered edges of a memory coming into focus.

She nodded. “Want to go spar?” She asked, standing.

His eyes followed her as she stood. 

“I'm sure you're rusty. And if things get out of hand, I can just drop you out.” She said with a smile far too sweet for her statement.

“Sure.” He replied, still watching.

“I'll go get changed.” She said, slipping into the hallway. 

It was less than 5 minutes before she was back. She wore the same clothes as before, but the scar on her wrist was now covered. He wondered if anyone here had seen it. Clint maybe. Where was Clint? He asked, “Clint?” As she walked past, towards the elevator.

“He's away.” She said, waiting for him to step on. “He will be back for Christmas.”

He followed Natalia to the gym. She moved easily across the room and into the ring, which was raised like a boxing platform. He followed her up and took position across from her. She smiled. “Ready when you are.” She told him.

He nodded. “Ready.”

They stood still, watching, waiting for the other to make the first move. Seconds stretched by. Then, in an instant, she was across the ring. He only just had time to block the fist aimed at his side. Full contact. He could manage that. She was right, he realized quickly. He was out of practice and keeping up with a Black Widow was challenging, even in top condition. Still, after a few minutes, he got his first connection, right fist to ribs, and after that he started getting better. Within five minutes, he'd settled into the familiar feeling of fighting. The only thing he had to remember was to pull the punches, bruises were ok, but no broken bones.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavy and coated with sweat, the sun had risen high in the sky. He was distantly aware that Cap's meeting was going way longer than normal. Natalia was smiling easily now. “Still think I'm rusty?” He asked and she laughed.

“Yeah, you're still rusty. Took you way too long.” She took a slow breath. “Ready for round two?”

He nodded. This time she gave no pause before darting across the space and attempting to grapple him. He caught her easily, not sure why she would try. He was much stronger hand to hand. Still, she forced him to the floor and pinned him. He broke her hold easily and rolled them, holding her to the mat. She struggled, tried repeatedly to roll him but he avoided each movement. “Tap.” He told her but she just squirmed more.

“Bucky, no!” He heard a shout. For a millisecond he felt himself falling, saw the train growing smaller as he fell down, down. Then Natalia rolled him. Sitting squarely on his stomach she grinned. 

“It's ok, Cap. We are just training.”

He turned his head to see Cap, worry etched into his face, watching him. “Yeah, training.” He echoed. Cap looked less than convinced. 

“He's been pulling punches. We are both fine.” She insisted, though sounding more annoyed now.

Cap seemed to think a moment then said, “Tag out, Nat, let me take a turn.”

Nat stood, letting him up, as Cap entered the ring. He pulled his shirt off and Cap did the same. Nat settled outside the ring, watching.

“Ready?” Cap asked. 

He nodded.

Fighting Cap was completely different from Nat. Where she was all supple grace and fast movements, Cap was strength and power. He noticed, almost immediately, that if Cap couldn't completely dodge an attack, instead of moving enough that the other person would glance, Cap would simply set his feet and brace, letting the hit come and putting him in the perfect place for a strong hit of his own. Because of that, being in close with him had as high of a risk as it did reward. He worked on strategy as they fought. By the time Cap had several dark bruises forming, he had a plan. He rushed in on Cap, rearing back as if he meant to hit hard with his right hand. As soon as Cap braced, he switched and swept his legs out instead. As soon as Cap started to fall, he rolled him and pinned him face first to the mat. Cap struggled for a moment but, finding no good way to free himself, he patted the floor laughing. He stood and offered a hand to Cap, who let himself be pulled up. 

Once the other man stood, he realized he couldn't remember why he'd offered a hand to help him up. He pushed the concern away. It was simply tied to some memory he couldn't yet access. 

He returned to his side of the ring, ready to go again, when Jarvis spoke, “Dr. Banner is requesting your presence in the lab.”

Cap looked up at the ceiling. He was still breathing hard from their fight. “Does he need us  _ right _ now or can we shower first?”

A beat later, Jarvis spoke, “Feel free to shower first.”

Cap nodded and grabbed his shirt, as he climbed out of the ring. He followed suit. Glancing around, he realized Nat had left at some point. He wondered how long they'd been fighting. “I needed that.” Cap said, a smile on his face. “That meeting lasted forever.” As the elevator closed, Cap told him, “At some point, we need to talk about what's going on but it's no rush.”

He nodded as the elevator doors opened. He retreated straight to the shower to wash up. He checked in the mirror, once he was clean. Where just a few weeks ago he'd been skin stretched too tight over jutting bone, muscle now began to show. His skin was mottled with bruises, already healing. 

Cap wasn't out yet, so he dropped onto the couch to wait for him. Once he appeared, they walked together to the elevator. 

Bruce was sitting at one of the work stations close to the door. Tony, he could see working on the red suit from before. Bruce smiled as they approached. 

“So, I think I've found a way to isolate the part of the serum that is causing trouble. I…are you ok?” Bruce was looking over him critically, taking in the patchwork of purple and yellow over his arms.

Cap answered for him. “He was sparring with Nat and I this morning.”

“Ahh.” Bruce said. “So, I found something in your blood sample, well two things really, that may be causing the overstimulation of nerves leading to the constant pain. I have a couple of samples to test for that. I also found something that I think may be increasing suggestibility. That one I'm going to need more time to investigate. So, for these samples, I would like to inject two parts of your arm and see how it changes the nerves.”

He nodded, looking around for, and locating, a screwdriver that looked like it would work for his arm.

“Wait.” Bruce said softly. “It will be to be your right arm.”

He stilled. His heart was pounding. 

“Cap, does he have a thing with needles?” He heard Bruce ask but it sounded like he was miles away.

Cap's reply barely reached his ears. “He didn't like them but he didn't have a phobia…”

He was strapped down, mouth guard in. Scientists scrambled around him. He heard a machine whining. Hadn't that been beeping before? He felt cold, his chest hurt worse than normal. Suddenly, a scientist came into view, a massive needle slamming into his chest then white fire shooting through him. He was screaming as he fell into darkness.

He jerked, he'd gotten free, someone was touching him. He grabbed the hand, spinning and dropping the man, reaching for his gun. It wasn't there. Someone was talking. The man he'd pinned. He was talking, soft and quiet.

He gasped, suddenly realizing he'd not been breathing. Releasing him, he took a step back.  _ Tony's lab, Stark Industries, New York _ . His brain was catching up as his whole body shivered. 

Cap stood, rubbing his wrist. In spite of everything Cap had told him, he  _ knew _ what was coming. You couldn't attack a handler without punishment. Still, he'd been brought to the scientists for testing, he couldn't leave. He stood still, extended his right arm, and waited.

Bruce didn't move, he was looking between him and Cap. Cap moved between him and Bruce. He turned his head just a bit. If he was getting hit it would hurt less now. “Hey.” Cap said.

He waited. 

“Look at me.” Cap said. 

He turned his head up, letting their eyes meet.

“You are ok. You're not in trouble. I'm not mad. You're not getting punished. Ok?”

He worked his jaw silently for a moment before nodding. 

“Now, are you ok for Bruce to continue or should we wait for now.”

“S’ok.” He managed, eyes still locked into Cap's. He couldn't see anything in them that would cast doubt on what the man said, but.

Bruce spoke from behind Cap. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” He said before he could think too hard. The first needle was in with nothing but a tiny pinch, then a soft burn as whatever it was injected into his forearm. He kept his eyes on Cap and kept his expression neutral. The second injection was in his shoulder with the same pinch and burn.

“Done.” Bruce said. “Now, let's go get you scanned.”

He followed Bruce and Cap across the lab to the large, open area and stood, waiting for the scan. His lower arm felt strange, still burning softly, but at the same time almost numb. He went still as Jarvis ran the scan.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tony had moved over to watch the scan. Moments later, the full sized computer - No, Cap had called it a projection - was hovering next to him.

“Oh, that looks promising.” Bruce said, sounding happy. He moved closer to look at the blue. “Look how all around his lower arm the nerves are firing less?”

Tony moved closer, too. “Cap, poke his arm where the injection was. Make sure they will still fire.”

Cap moved over. “Going to touch your arm, ok?”

He nodded. 

Cap gently poked where the needle had entered his arm. Over Cap's shoulder he could see the white flash. At the same time, though it felt farther away than normal, he felt the pressure of Cap's finger on his arm. 

“Try just resting it there.” Bruce said. He had grabbed a clipboard and was writing feverishly.

Cap spread his hand out, fingertips ghosting feather light over his arm before his palm came to rest over where the needle had punctured his skin. The immediate warmth of Cap's hand soaked into his skin. He hoped this part of the test took a moment. 

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he shook his head, forcing it back away. Physical contact with the handier was not a positive, he reminded himself firmly. He forced himself to listen to Tony and Bruce, though now they may as well be speaking a foreign language, for all he could understand.

“Good.” Bruce said. “I am going to work on a larger sample of this. Cap, nothing in it should have any side effects but if something happens, let me know.”

Cap turned to Bruce and nodded. “Should we be worried about the suggestibility thing?”

“No? I mean, if that is something they injected him with, knowing about it doesn't change that it's always been there. I'll keep working on it.”

Bruce turned to him. “I'd like to come by later and get another blood sample, if that's ok?”

He nodded.

He retreated to his room as soon as they returned to the apartment. The spot on his forearm felt cold and numb. He rubbed at it. It didn't help the cold, but he could at least still feel the sensation. He laid down and pulled the covers over himself, then continued to rub at his arm. 

He jumped awake at the sound of someone knocking on the door. Cap's voice floated through the sounds of the city filling his room. “Dinner is ready, you want some?”

“Yeah.” He called. 

Tossing back the covers, his stomach rolled. Blood had soaked the sheets. His arm was still bleeding softly from the area where the injection had been. Blunt, shallow scratches covered that section of his arm. As he watched, blood lazily oozed out and down his arm. He'd been scratching in his sleep. 

He stood and moved to the bathroom. Turning the water on, he rinsed the blood off his left hand, then began to clean his arm. As the water ran red he turned away, the sight bringing up far too many memories. Once he was clean, he pulled off his shirt and collected up his sheets. He carried them out.

Cap looked at him as he walked by. “Everything ok?” 

He tossed the sheets and shirt into the wash and started it before turning his right arm for Cap to see. 

“Jesus. You were scratching?” He asked, a hand moving up to grasp his, rotating his arm. “Jarvis, can you get Bruce up here?”

“Certainly.” 

By the time Bruce arrived, Cap was dishing up dinner. “Hey, what's going on?” Bruce asked. “Jarvis said he'd had a reaction.”

“I don't know if reaction is the right word.” Cap said. “He scratched it, enough to bleed.”

He held out his right arm. The blunt cuts were still visible in his arm. “Did you do this intentionally?” Bruce asked. He didn't reach out to touch, like Cap had.

“No. Asleep.” He said.

Bruce nodded. “The skin there probably feels pretty numb.” Bruce said, his eyes on Cap. “It's probably not shocking he messed with it. When we ramp up to full dose, we may need someone to watch him when he sleeps to make sure he doesn't scratch till his body can adjust to the differences in stimuli. Does it hurt at all? Or did it before you scratched?”

“It's cold.” He said. It didn't really fit the question, he realized in hindsight, but Bruce was nodding.

Cap's hand came to rest on the spot again. Warmth once again spread into his cold skin. “It didn't feel cold?” Cap was looking at Bruce.

Bruce nodded. “His whole body is running too hot from the adrenaline. Without that, it's going to feel cool to him till he adjusts.”

“Adrenaline? Is his heart ok? How long has it been like that?” Cap asked.

Caps thumb moved back and forth across his arm. He was pretty sure the other man had no idea he was doing it. 

“Honestly, it's probably only been like this for the last year or two he's been away from Hydra. You have to remember, everything they did to him only needed to work a few days at a time since they just kept freezing him. With the serum, Tony and I don't expect the physical issues to be permanent.” Bruce said calmly.

Cap nodded, his hand falling away, taking the warmth with it. He pushed hard against the memories of the freeze, how it froze his body long before his mind stopped. He always had to remember to close his eyes. The first freeze they had been open. They thought he might be blind when Zola brought him back. The serum had healed most of the damage, at least.

“Buck?” He jumped like someone had pressed the stun gun between his ribs. Cap and Bruce were both looking at him expectantly. They'd asked him something. He tried to go back, replay the conversation.  _ Why would you let him keep his eyes open?  _ Zola was asking a scientist.

“I. What?” He finally asked.

“Does it still feel different than the rest of your arm?” Bruce asked.

“Yes.” He said quickly.

“Ok, good. If that changes, let me know.” Bruce said, standing.

He nodded. 

Cap finished making plates and sat in front of him. His stomach still rolled, images of blood buzzing in his mind. He sensed Cap watching him and took a bite. It tasted good, he was sure it did, but the sauce felt thick in his mouth, like congealed blood. He had just enough time to move to the sink before he was throwing up. Cap jumped up and moved into his peripheral vision. “Buck?” He said, his voice full of concern.

He couldn't have responded if he wanted to. His stomach seemed dead set on upheaving everything he'd eaten in the past week. Cap moved and carefully drew his hair back, keeping it out of the way. It felt like hours before the retching stopped. When he leaned back, Cap moved to the cabinets and got a glass of water, which he passed over before disappearing into the hall. He returned with a cool washcloth, which he passed over as well.

“Is this the injection? Should I call Bruce?” He asked softly.

“No.” He rasped back. “Blood. Seeing the blood.” He realized, once the words were out, that revealing that information was dangerous. He'd said them, no taking them back now.

“You mean in the sheets?” Cap asked.

He nodded. He took a long drink from the glass, rinsing his mouth and spitting the water out. 

“Need to lay down?” Cap asked. He could feel Cap watching closely.

He nodded, relieved he didn't push for more information. He moved to the couch and dropped heavily. His stomach continued to churn. He dropped an arm over his eyes and tried to force his tense muscles to relax. He jumped when something soft landed in his legs. Cap had brought a blanket and was covering him. Moments later Pup landed squarely on his legs.

He hadn't felt cold but, once the blanket covered him, he was glad for the extra heat. The blanket wasn't one he recognized but was exceptionally soft. His fingers rubbed it absently. Cap moved back into his field of vision, the TV remote in his hand. 

“Planet Earth?” Cap asked and he nodded.

As the show started, Cap set the remote next to him on the coffee table and disappeared, reappearing moments later with a newly filled cup of water and Cap's plate. He sat on the other couch and turned to watch the show. Pup had settled between his legs, her head on his thigh. He sat up enough to rub her ears but the tightening of his stomach sent a fresh wave of nausea through him and he dropped back down.

His eyes opened as Cap stood, his now empty plate in hand. They opened again, Cap was sitting now, the familiar scratch of pencil on paper was barely audible under the show. A hand on his forehead had his eyes snapping open again. 

“Easy.” Cap murmured. “Just checking for fever.”

He stilled, waiting. 

“No fever. Come on, let's get you to bed.”

He nodded and stood. His nausea had gone, in its place an overall feeling of exhaustion. Cap guided him gently to his bedroom and paused at the door. “You good from here?”

He nodded. 

“If you need me, let Jarvis know.” Cap said. 

He nodded before pulling off his shirt and pants. He changed for bed then remembered his sheets in the wash. He turned to go get them but found his bed already made. Moving over he pulled the sheets back. They were still warm, fresh from the dryer. He climbed in and pulled the warmth around him. It was less than a minute before sleep swallowed him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

December 21

Over the next few days, he spent extra time in the gym sparring with Natalia and, occasionally, Cap. While his mind couldn't remember much, his body seemed to easily remember how to fight and he enjoyed the chance to practice. 

Natalia was the only one who hadn’t switched to calling him Bucky. It was still strange, still occasionally made his mind buzz, but it'd been two days since his last flashback. He wasn't sure he liked how Tony said it. It sounded strange on his tongue, though he couldn't place why.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped into Natalia's apartment. “Hey, Soldier.” She said from the kitchen table. That felt familiar, comfortable. She was the only constant in the ever changing storm his life had become. 

He nodded to her, “Natalia.” 

The edge of her mouth curled up. “We are staying in today. No sparring. We need to do some upkeep on a few guns and a few knives.”

He nodded. It was so much easier with her. She didn't push choices on him. She simply pointed him at a goal and gave the word. She settled onto the floor, a knife in hand, and a whetstone on the floor. He settled into breaking down and cleaning the rifle she offered.

That's how Cap found them hours later. He sat in a chair he grabbed from the kitchen table and brought into the living room. 

“Has Cap told you about the Christmas dinner?” Nat asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, he hasn't decided if he's going.” Cap spoke before he did. Cap had reminded him of it the night before, but the memories of the last time he'd been around the group of them had kept him from answering.

Natalia looked up, green eyes catching his.

“He's going.” She said.

A calm resolution set over him.

Cap spoke sharply from the chair. “Nat, you can't do that. He has to choose. Remember what Bruce said. He's got to have the choice.”

Nat turned to look at Cap instead. “Autonomy is exhausting, especially after 70 years of not having it. I know what I'm doing, Cap. Trust me.”

Cap seemed at a loss for words.

He passed the gun over to Nat for inspection. She checked it over before giving him another.

Jarvis cut into the quiet, “Mr. Barnes?” 

He turned his head up to the ceiling. Cap had told him it wasn't needed but it felt strange not to somehow acknowledge the voice.

“Dr. Banner is requesting your presence in the lab.”

Nodding, he stood, passed the gun back to Nat, then glanced at Cap.

“Go ahead, I'll catch up. I need to talk to Nat.” Cap told him.

Nat smiled as he turned. “See you later, Soldier.” She said, her voice as calm and relaxed as ever.

When the elevator doors opened, Bruce was waiting for him. Tony stood a few feet into the lab, a grin on his face. “Hey, Bucky.” Tony said, still grinning.

Bruce, seeing him watching Tony, spoke. “Just.” Bruce sighed. “Just ignore him.” Bruce said, his tone tight. “Listen, I wanted to do a scan on your right arm to check on the injection and I need a few more blood samples.”

“Why do you need more samples, _Dr. Banner?”_ Tony called from his place farther in the lab.

Bruce began walking to the scan point without answering. Tony moved too, practically bouncing.

“Oh come on Bruce! You're not going to tell him what _I_ discovered when you, with all your degrees--”

Bruce rounded in him, “God! You are just insufferable, you kn--”

Tony turned away from Bruce addressing him, “I was checking the scan of your brain and found something affecting the limbic system. Originally, I thought it was just the PTSD. That can cause the limbic system to show up weird on a scan and after what you'd been through PTSD is a given. Anxiety also affects it, which was how Hydra manipulated your acute stress response to keep you hyper focused for battle, but something still wasn't adding up based on the scans. I kept telling Bruce to check, but he insisted there wasn't anything there, but finally I got him to--”

Bruce pulled Tony around so they were facing each other again. “Tony, enough. I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry I didn't take a verbal testimony that your father, who was a real piece of work too, told you about Bucky's personality _decades_ after he knew him, as truth and start tests immediately. Somehow, I thought treating the constant pain and fear he is in, which we can see is _actually_ happening, was more important!”

Tony's expression flickered for half a second before he squared up to Bruce. “But I was _right,_ wasn't I? And this is something easy. Something that could have been fixed on day one had you _chose_ to overlook.”

Bruce opened his mouth but Cap spoke from behind them, “Woah, what is going on?”

Tony, grin back on his face, slipped away from his position in front of Bruce and darted over to Cap. He could hear Tony speaking rapidly to Cap.

Bruce watched Tony a moment, a look of frustration on his face then, with another sigh, started walking. “Let's get that arm scanned.” Bruce said calmly.

By the time the scan was done, Tony and Cap were standing, watching. “It's stable.” Bruce said to Tony, who nodded. Tony seemed considerably calmer now. “Are you ok to do the blood samples, now?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah.” 

Bruce went to get the vials and Tony passed over the screwdriver. Cap moved over to stand with him. Without really thinking, he passed the screwdriver to Cap, pulling his arm into maintenance. In the past 5 days, Cap had managed to learn the screw combinations with relatively high accuracy.

“Which plate?” Cap asked quietly.

He touched the one on his shoulder. Cap's left hand rested softly on his arm as his right began to work on the first screw. Tony was watching them closely. When Cap shifted, blocking Tony's line of sight, he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

“When did this start?” Bruce asked when he returned, gesturing to Cap and the screwdriver.

“A few days?” Cap said. Cap held out the screws he'd removed and he took them in his right hand. With the plate off, he pulled the line out and filled the offered vials in silence.

“So, Tony was saying that you might have found something, some chemical affecting his mind? Cap asked Bruce quietly.

“Not a chemical, no.” Bruce's eyes flashed for a moment to Tony, before returning to look at Cap. “A hormonal imbalance. Do you remember when you first woke up? You had a fuzzy feeling in your mind?” Then, apparently responding to a non verbal question, “Tony mentioned it was in your file.”

“Yeah. I remember. It was like trying to think with my head full of fog.” Bruce nodded.

“That is your mind’s normal reaction to lack of sleep or coming out of something really stressful. It's something normal and natural your mind does. Hydra has set the production of that hormone into overdrive, so he feels that all the time. I am guessing it was part of his conditioning. When thinking about anything is difficult, why bother to think?”

Cap nodded. “Ok, that makes sense. So, why exactly did you and Tony look like you were ready to fist fight when I got down here?”

Bruce sighed, looking somewhere past Cap, probably to wherever Tony had settled. “Tony has been bothering me to check for something that would increase his suggestibility since day one. The problem is, that doesn't exist. I've told him this but he was convinced. I guess Howard and Bucky knew each other?” Bruce paused.

“Yeah, they talked a good bit.” Cap chuckled, “Bonded over their mutual taste in women.”

“What? Women with a pulse?” Bruce jabbed, then continued, “Tony kept going on and on about how his father had described Bucky's personality, behavior, that sort of thing and how it didn't match up with Bucky now. I kept explaining that decades of trauma and brainwashing would cause that but Tony was _convinced_ , you know how he gets, that it wasn't just that. That the Bucky that Howard talked about wouldn't change just because of the abuse. Anyway, last night I started digging into hormone levels, mainly for the serum cure and found the increased levels. Tony, being Tony, caught wind of it and hasn't stopped bragging all morning.”

“Is it really bragging when I'm right?” Tony called. 

Bruce glared, “Yes, Tony, it's still bragging.” He called back.

He closed the valve off, passing the last vial to Bruce.

“You know Bucky could come up to your lab, if it's easier.” Cap said as he slid the plate back into it's housing and began to re-attach the screws.

“I'm...I don't think that's a good idea, Cap. It's pretty medical in there.” Bruce said, his eyes flicking back and forth between him and Cap.

“I've busted through a lot of Hydra bases, none of them looked anything like your lab, Bruce.” Cap said. 

He sighed. “Ok, do you want to come see my lab then?” Bruce asked.

He didn't, not really. Even if it looked nothing like Hydra's labs, he didn't like medical buildings.

He must have hesitated long enough because Cap spoke, “Remember, you can say no.”

“Yes. We can see the lab.”

Bruce and Cap were silent as Cap finished screwing the plate back down. Bruce carried the vials with him as they moved to the elevator. 

When the doors opened again, the room that came into view couldn't be more different than Tony's lab below. Where Tony's was barely controlled chaos, Bruce's lab was spotless. The entire wall across from them, as well as the one to the right, was made of windows which filled the room with the midday sun. There was no clutter, save a desk in the corner which had paper scattered around it. The walls were concrete, painted a soft grey. Most of the benches were wood but the majority of the room seemed white. Maybe it was all the medical equipment. A few computers dotted the room and almost every bench had a computer to go with it. In the left corner of the room, several areas were blocked off with curtains. He could only guess that's where people would be if anyone was here. 

Bruce's body seemed to visibly change once he entered the room. Downstairs, he'd been annoyed at Tony but still comfortable. Here he seemed tense, almost wary. Bruce didn't speak as he crossed the room and loaded the vials into a machine and closed it. A soft hum filled the room. This was his space. The only reason he had to be uncomfortable here was that they were here as well.

Bruce moved to the desk and placed all the papers in a file before turning to them again. “You can come in.” He said, sounding just as uncomfortable as he looked. 

He walked carefully across the room, Cap on his heels, to look at the machine Bruce had set the vials in. The top was clear and the machine seemed to be spinning at a high speed.

“I don't think I've ever been up here.” Cap said. His voice sounded off, too. 

His stomach settled into a knot. If they were both uncomfortable, was something about to happen? His eyes flashed back to the curtains and he took a step back toward the elevator.

Bruce was answering Cap, they were speaking in tense voices. He took another step back.

“Buck, you ok?” Cap asked. 

He snapped his eyes to Cap's bright blue ones.

“Yes.” If they were going to try to surprise him, he needed them to think he didn't know. 

Cap was moving towards him now. He continued to track backwards through the lab. When he bumped the wall he snapped the call button and the doors opened. He stepped in and said, “Apartment.” 

Cap had stopped walking and watched as the doors closed. 

He shut and locked the door to his bedroom, grabbed his knife, and tucked back into the closet just in case someone came for him. 

It was hours before Cap knocked on his door. “Buck? You want dinner?” 

His stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten dinner last night or lunch that day. Finally, he settled on coming out, but keeping his knife tucked into his pocket. Cap noticed, as soon as he came out he saw Cap's eyes catch the glint of metal. He didn't comment.

Cap smiled, but it was strange, it didn’t reach his eyes. He set their plates down at the table. He sat and took a bite. As he chewed, his stomach made it known exactly how hungry he was. 

Cap didn't eat right away. He was watching him eat. He realized too late that the food could have something in it, a sedative or poison. It was too late, now. He'd had enough it would affect him regardless, so he continued to eat.

“I talked to Nat after you left the lab earlier.” Cap said finally. “I think… You like it better don't you? When she makes choices so you don't have to?”

He stopped eating, watching Cap. He was waiting for an answer. What was the right answer? If he said yes, would he take all choice from him? He didn't want to kill again. He felt sick rising up in the back of his throat but he forced it down.

Cap, apparently deciding he wouldn't answer, sighed. “It's ok. You don't have to answer. We thought that giving you complete freedom would be the best option, but I'm seeing now that it's too much, too fast. So, I'm going to try to find ways to rein it in and take the pressure off you.”

He didn't answer. Nothing he could think to say fit. Finally, he nodded. 

Cap began to eat, so he did the same. 

When he went to bed that night he lay awake for hours, rubbing absently on Pup's ears, but feeling unable to let his eyes drift closed.

December 24

In spite of Cap's words, nothing changed over the next few days. Wake up, breakfast, arm maintenance, gym, lunch, kill time before and after dinner, then bed. Cap went to a meeting one day but otherwise remained his companion in all his daily activities.

He was therefore surprised when Cap announced that they would both be staying in that day so Cap could catch him up on all the good Christmas movies.

“It's Christmas Eve, it's important you see all the movies you've missed.” Cap told him with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah.” He said. He only remembered one, maybe two, Christmas movies from growing up and it was only bits and pieces.

After breakfast, Cap disappeared into his bedroom and returned with the soft blanket he'd used a few weeks ago. Cap tossed it at him before moving to sit on the other couch. He didn't feel cold but found himself curling up under the blanket all the same.

Pup curled up in her favorite spot tucked against his legs and Cap started the first movie. As soon as the music played he remembered sitting in the theater, watching it with his sisters. 

“You remember?” Cap asked and he looked over. Cap was watching him instead of the movie. 

He nodded. “With my sisters.” Cap grinned. 

“I thought so, with that smile on your face.” 

Had he been smiling? He didn't question further. After the first movie Cap immediately started another. He remembered this one too but he remembered much less. He hadn't been alone in the theater, in the back row hands all over...someone. He had that same fuzzy non-memory he had when he remembered things with Cap. A small hand had wrapped around his cock. But that was as much as he could remember. He watched the movie, hoping something would spark any other piece of the memory but nothing came.

Pup whined to go out as the movie credits played. He moved to stand but Cap waved him down. “It's freezing out there. I'll take her.” It had been miserable when he'd taken her up before bed last night and he wasn't about to argue.

Once Cap left he stared at the frozen screen. He remembered someone moaning his name, the hand on him, but nothing else came to him. A frustrated noise ended in the back of his throat as he dropped his head back into the arm of the sofa. 

Cap's phone buzzed on the table, making him jump. He sat up to look. _Bruce_ the screen read. He touched it and the message opened. “Found hormone in blood. Cure 1-2 wks.”

The slide of the elevators made him jerk back onto the couch. If Cap had noticed he didn't comment as he tapped the last bit of snow and ice off his boots. Pup bounded over to him, the cold air making her wild like a puppy again.

Cap picked up his phone. If he noticed the message was already open he didn't comment. “Looks like Tony was right after all. God, help us. Hopefully, things will be easier for you after that.” 

He nodded, his left hand moving to the still strangely numb spot in his forearm, mind returning to the bloody sheets last time Bruce had helped.

The next few movies he didn't recognize at all, they must have been after he shipped out.

By afternoon, the movies had changed from black and white to color. Cap paused to make them sandwiches around one.

The rest of the day was peaceful. As the sun set, Cap paused the movie to make dinner. Pup, having woken up when he moved to sit, now sat as much in his lap as her form would allow, trying to lick his face. 

“Today has been nice.” Cap said from the kitchen, his voice quiet.

Pushing Pup down enough the she wasn't in his face, he replied, “Yeah.”

“Tomorrow, I'm going to need your help getting food ready for dinner.” Cap said, the change in his tone was almost imperceptible but still he caught it.

“Yeah.” He said easily. 

“Good.” Cap said, his voice immediately softer.

They ate dinner on the couch, watching another movie as they did. 

The moon was high as the credits rolled on the last movie. He was pretty sure he'd only seen half, his eyes were so heavy. Cap turned off the TV and stretched. “Come on Buck. Bedtime.”

He stood slowly, stretching his back. “Oh, Buck.” Cap said. “Merry Christmas.”

He liked over at the clock on the book shelves. It read 12:56.

“Merry Christmas.” He replied. The words tasted foreign and strange on his tongue.

Cap smiled all the same before moving down the hall. “Here.” He said as Cap got to his bedroom door. He tried to pass the blanket back but Cap waved him off. 

“You keep it.” Cap told him before disappearing into his bedroom. 

He carried the blanket in and spread it onto the bed before changing. Sleep had no trouble finding him that night.

December 25

He was awake and standing before his eyes even opened. The nightmare still thundering in his mind as he pulled in a few heaving breaths. Pup wasn't in the room. That meant Cap was up and had already taken her out. Glad to not need to leave his room just yet he retreated to the shower. 

Once he was clean, had shaved, and gotten dressed, the nightmare that had felt so vivid had faded away. Cap smiled at him from the couch when he came out. “Morning.” Cap said, “And Merry Christmas.” He passed over a box wrapped in bright paper.

He took it uncertainly. Memories bubbled up in his mind, he and his sisters unwrapping gifts on Christmas morning. It felt more like watching someone else's memories through a window, a lifetime ago. Still he opened the box. Inside was something that looked like a phone only thinner and smaller. With it were headphones, both the bulky over the ear kind he'd seen over the years and the small kind that sat inside the ear that he saw often now.

Cap stood. “Can I show you?” 

He nodded, since he wasn't sure what he was even looking at. Cap took the smaller headphones and placed one up by his left ear then pressed something on the screen. Familiar music filled his ear. Memories of dance halls filled his mind. Just as strong, memories of time spent in the quiet alleys behind the dance hall, music still wafting through the night air, rustling skirts as uncertain hands--. Cap was speaking, drawing him back out of his memories.

“Loaded it with music from the 30s to now, so you can listen to old stuff or catch up on new, whatever you want.” He was showing him how to navigate around the device. He made himself pay attention. “And these,” he reached back into the box, “Are wireless.” He said, pulling two small devices from the box. Those he recognized, a smaller version of the comms they would put in his ears before missions so he could hear and talk to the others. He took one and fitted it easily into his ear. Cap pressed a button and the music started from the comm instead. “Music helped me a lot, after I came out of the ice. I thought maybe it would help you, too.” His voice was quiet.

“Thank you.” He said. Those words sounded strange, too, but he at least knew it was what he was supposed to say.

“Also, I feel inclined to warn you, since no one warned me, that there is a very good chance Tony bought you a car.”

He must not have managed to fully mask his surprise because Cap smiled understandingly. “Right? Wish someone had let me know ahead of time. It's apparently a Tony tradition. Move into the tower get a car. You ready to go see everyone?”

He nodded, keeping the comm in, the music soft in his ear. Pup followed them hopefully to the elevator and Cap patted his leg, beckoning her on. 

The elevator doors opened and quiet music filled the floor. It clashed with the jazz in his ear so he pulled the comm out, pocketing it. 

The room had been decorated for Christmas. A large tree sat in one corner, lights were strung in front of the windows, and a fire was lit in the fireplace across the room. Pup bolted wildly exploring every inch of the space. Nat and Clint sat side by side on a couch near the fire, talking, Bruce and Pepper sat at the bar. Tony was the only one missing. 

Pup was shooting around the room, greeting everyone in turn, her whole body writhing in the excitement. He moved over to Natalia and Clint and sat in the chair across from them. Pup, having greeted everyone, launched into his lap as soon as he sat.

“Merry Christmas.” Clint told him easily.

“Merry Christmas.” He echoed back. 

“I hear we can call you Bucky now?” Clint asked. He paused for a moment, realizing just how long Clint had been gone for.

“Yeah.” He said. 

“Listen, it might not be my place, Bucky, but if you ever want to talk about brainwashing, I have experienced it personally, though in a very different way from you.”

He remember Nat mentioning it. “How?” He asked.

“We were fighting an enemy with special powers. He used a kind of magic to bend my will and do whatever he wanted. He made me do things I never would have otherwise. I was aware of all of it, watching myself kill people, trying to make it stop.” He shook his head as though clearing the memories.

“It was the same.” He said softly. 

“I guessed it would be similar. Anyway, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. If I'm not around, Nat can get me on the phone.”

He nodded, images flickering through his mind, glassy eyes and blood. Pup began to lick his face, forcing him to return to petting her. Nat and Clint talked between themselves, letting him just listen to the pop and crack of the fire. 

The elevator opened and Tony stepped out. His hair was dripping and his shirt stuck slightly to his chest like he'd just gotten out of the shower. He moved over to Pepper. She frowned a bit and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it and sending water flying. Once his hair was no longer dripping, she smiled and Tony folded her smaller frame into a hug, his chin resting on her shoulder.

Cap moved over to the two, talking to them. Tony said something, his eyes moving across the room before landing on him. Pup, who had been squirming to greet Tony, finally worked free and bolted across the room.

“I said you could have the dog on your floor, not all over the building.” Tony said to Cap.

Pepper slapped his arm. Pup sat at Tony's feet wiggling all over. He sighed and knelt down. Pup jumped up to lick his face before he managed to kneel down all the way and, by the time he sat, she was in his lap, licking his face and neck and squirming in excitement. Tony laughed, trying to push her head away from his face. He rubbed her ears when she finally calmed enough that he could. After several minutes, Tony pushed her away enough that he was able to stand back up.

As soon as Tony was standing, Pup shot back up into his chair with such force it rocked backward a bit when she landed. Pepper laughed before turning back to Tony. 

Tony walked over to where the three of them were sitting and pulled a key out of his pocket, holding it out. “Merry Christmas, Buck. Cap can take you down to the garage later so you can check it out.”

He took the key. Imprinted on it was the word Jeep. He frowned and Tony smirked. “Figured you'd recognize that name. They have changed a bit. For the better, in my opinion.”

“Thank you, Tony.” He said, sliding the key into the pocket with his comm. Tony stood there a moment, then wandered away back to Pepper, pulling her in for a kiss.

He cringed some as Pup squirmed and fidgeted, then flopped down across his lap with a long sigh. He ran a hand over her fur. No longer did her ribs jut out. She looked healthy now. 

Clint turned to look over at the fire and he caught the glint of something black deep in his ear. “What?” He started to ask before closing his mouth on the question. In the proximity Natalia had still heard. 

“What?” She asked, her eyes on him. 

“His ear?” He asked. 

Clint frowned but Natalia understood.

“It's an implant.”

Clint, now understanding, reached up and pulled the small black devices out, one from each ear, and passed them over.

“Clint is deaf.” Natalia said. “He has been since he was a kid. Tony made him those so he can hear.” 

He turned the tiny device over in his fingers. It was slightly tear drop in shape, all smooth and seemed to be made of black metal. They looked somewhat similar to the comm in his pocket.

“Without those in, he can't hear anything at all.” she said.

“How did he talk, before these?” He asked, still turning the devices over.

“He can speak sign language.” Natalia said. 

“Sign language?” He looked up.

Natalia nodded. As she spoke again, her hands moved in rapid movements, “Sign language involves using your hands to speak.” 

Clint nodded and made a few gestures himself. 

Natalia watched him before speaking “Clint is more than happy to teach you, if you want to learn,” then turning back to him, “If he's not around, I can teach you.”

He passed the two implants back and Clint set them into his ears. They seemed to snap back into place.

“I grew up knowing how to talk.” Clint said, “I was hearing till I was about 5. My father,” he paused, thinking. “Something happened and I was no longer able to hear.” He said. “I picked up sign language, assumed I'd be that way my whole life. I didn't have money for the surgery to fix it, but then I met Tony and Bruce and, together they managed to make the first version of this. It was a lot bigger and a lot less effective, but it worked. After that, they just kept making it smaller and better.”

He nodded. He remembered, once, he'd been too close to a flash bang. It had been days before he heard more than a dull ring. Voices had sounded far away and under water. He couldn't imagine living years with less than that.

Nat and Clint returned to their conversation, he let his head fall back against the back of the chair and just listened. The soft pop and crackle of the fire filled his ears. The sound of footsteps moving closer brought his head up. Tony, Pepper, Bruce, and Cap were moving over. Cap pulled a couch around and Bruce grabbed another chair like the one he was sitting in. Soon, everyone was settled close together talking. He tried to focus on the words, kept up with some of it. Pepper told a story of a Christmas when she was a kid, he lost the plot halfway through, but it was funny; everyone else laughed. Bruce talked about Tony, Tony argued, more laughter.

It felt like there was a lifetime stretched between him and the others around him. Distantly, he could remember this, laughing and joking with friends. He remembered talking a lot, maybe even more than the others, and yet now, even holding onto a conversation felt like a mountain to climb. He was aware his leg was bouncing. He went still. The voices started closing in on him, feeling heavier, tighter. A hand dropped to his arm and he jumped.

“Buck, come help me in the kitchen.” Cap said, his voice firm and quiet.

He nodded and stood, following Cap into the kitchen. Cap passed him a knife and vegetables and, after showing him what he wanted on one of each, left him to work. As he chopped, he pulled in a deep breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. 

“Tell me when you're done.” Cap told him as he started working on something else.

He nodded.

When he finished, Cap passed another job to him, then another when he was done with that. By the time he finished everything Cap gave him to work on, he no longer felt like the talking was closing in. He was able to keep up with a story Bruce was telling about finding Tony stuck upside down in the lab when something he'd been working on misfired and hung him upside down by his feet.

After they were done, everyone pulled the couches around to watch a movie. He sat on the end of one of the couches, Cap next to him. Everywhere their bodies touched, the heat from Cap sunk into his skin, warming him. The movie played in the background but he didn't really focus on the plot. He'd gotten enough movies yesterday. 

When the timer beeped part way through the movie, he was more than ready to get up and move again. Cap showed him how to set the table, then left all the plates and silverware for him to set out. Cap passed him the food, next. Everything smelled amazing. As the movie finished, they finished setting up the table. 

He sat at the end of the table, Cap sitting next to him. They ate in relative silence. Everything tasted even better than it smelled.

Once they were done eating, Nat and Clint started the dishes and, after a few stern looks from Pepper, Tony joined in. Pup was asking to go out. Cap moved to where he was standing, watching everyone clean and told him. “I'm going to take Pup out, go back to the apartment and I'll meet you there.”

He nodded. He was sitting on the couch when Cap and Pup returned. It must still be freezing outside, because she tore back and forth from one end of the apartment to the other, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Cap dodged past her and moved to sit on the couch opposite him. “You did really good today.” He said, his voice gentle. “Nat told me groups are probably going to be difficult for you for a while but you did good.” Cap smiled.

He nodded, not sure exactly how to respond, but the words made his chest feel warm.

He spent the rest of the evening stretched out on the couch, reading, while Cap watched TV and sketched in his book.

January 1

He sat up slowly. Sleep clung to his mind, making him feel sluggish. He rubbed his face and stood, heading for the bathroom. He spent longer under the hot spray of water than he normally would have, letting the heat settle deep into his skin. He shaved, dressed, and bundled up, taking Pup to the roof. It was freezing that morning and the heat of the shower and the layers he'd put on did nothing to stop the frigid wind from blowing right through him. 

He was glad when Pup was done quickly so they could return back inside. Cap was still not awake yet, so he started coffee and breakfast. Cap wandered out as he was putting food into their plates. “Morning.” Cap mumbled as he filled a mug with coffee. He passed Cap his plate before moving to the couch to sit.

Cap followed next to him and clicked on the TV. It was still on the channel from the night before when they had watched the ball drop, welcoming in a new year.

A blonde news anchor was speaking, “Strangely absent from last night's festivities. This coming just weeks after the Avengers P.R. team announcing James Barnes,” his head snapped up at the sound of his name, “Has moved into Avengers Tower to receive treatment for PTSD following 70 years as a POW.”

“Shit.” Cap swore next to him. “Bucky, I meant to warn you they were releasing that information…”

The news woman's words brought him back to the TV. “It's no secret that Captain America worked closely with James Barnes and the Howling Commandos before his capture in 1944, but his absence at the New Year's Eve ceremony has many people asking questions.”

“Bucky.” Cap said but his eyes remained locked on the picture of his face on the screen. It was old, one from the 1940s. It looked so familiar, yet so foreign.

The woman was gone and another person, a man was speaking. The picture of him on the screen was replaced with a very new picture of Cap. “Thank you, Lori. Listen, I have to say, if Captain America doesn't want to attend things he doesn't have to. Steve Rogers--.”

Any other words never reached his ears. He was aware of an inhuman scream and then blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the last chapter ending in a cliff hanger!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

January 1 (cont.)

His eyes snapped open and just as fast clinched closed. It was blindingly bright and his head was pounding. He moved his hand towards his head and, with a soft clink, his movements stopped short.

Chest heaving, his eyes snapped open again, blinking through the brightness, and coming to land on his arms, both secured firmly to the table he lay on. Lifting his torso, he slapped against the table, using the momentum to strain both arms against their bindings. His left arm whirred and clicked, but the restraints didn't even groan. He locked the plates down and tried again but without change.

Struggling to breathe, he tried to remember. News in the apartment. News woman said something, then nothing. His head whipped around, rapidly taking in his surroundings. Bright, natural light, curtains, Dr. Banner’s lab. 

It had finally happened. All the promises and comfort to gain his trust. Why? Understanding dawned. They couldn't have wiped him, had been missing the technology. They had just needed time. 

His head dropped back against the padded headrest. It let off a soft whoosh of air as his head sunk in. Sitting up as much as he could, he checked the restraints, looking for weak points. There were none. Even if he could get free, it would be pointless. Dr. Banner's lab was near the top of the tower and, if they were smart when they caught him, they'd probably disabled the elevators.

His jaw ached. Clenching it, he realized someone had put in a mouth guard. Had he bitten one of them? Carefully, he used his tongue to loosen the guard and spat it out at the curtain.

He could hear voices talking, arguing, somewhere in another part of the room. He heaved another breath in and tried to focus, to hear, but it sounded like muffled background noise; the thud if his pulse taking center focus.

Movement, the voices grew louder. He suddenly wished he'd kept the mouth guard in, if just to spit it at them. Bruce and Cap were on the other side of the curtain. They were arguing heatedly. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. He couldn't stop his chest heaving but maybe he could at least hear something useful.

“It wasn't him. We knew my name was a trigger. He didn't know what he was doing. We are letting him free.” Cap was saying. 

“It doesn't matter if he was aware or not, we don't have any way of knowing how long the trigger will last. If he comes up swinging again, then what? Have Tony knock him out again? At least this way we know he is safe.”

“It is going to reset all the progress we made. I told him we wouldn't do this. I promised him.” 

“Probably shouldn't have made a promise like that. We have no idea what will happen between now and when he's better, if he gets better.” Bruce said firmly.

The curtain rustled softly. 

“Buck?” Caps voice was tight.

He opened his eyes but stared straight ahead. 

“Jesus. Tony help me get the restraints off.” Cap moved to his shoulder. 

Bruce grabbed Cap's hand. “Make sure he's himself, first, if for no other reason than he doesn't need to be knocked out twice in one day.”

He couldn't see Cap's face, but a moment later the other man moved in front of him. He had a dark purple bruise around his throat. “Buck? You with me pal?” Cap's eyes held his.

He didn't move. They may have him captured, but he didn't have to comply, not yet.

“You gotta talk to me so I can let you go.” Cap said.

He closed his eyes in silent defiance. If they were going to wipe him, he wouldn't remember whatever punishment came first.

“See?” Bruce said over his left shoulder, “He's not himself. Not yet.”

“He's not himself because he's terrified, because you have him chained up!” Cap was yelling. “Damn it.” Cap said, though it seemed more to himself.

The curtain rustled again. Natalia's voice spoke, “Just got back. Jarvis filled me in. Where are we?”

“He won't talk. He's awake, and freaking out, and Bruce won't let me untie him till he talks, but he's too freaked out to talk.” Cap said, all in a rush.

Movement, a soft shuffling of feet. When Nat spoke again, she was in front of him. Her voice rang out, sharp as a knife. “Soldier, mission log, last memory.”

He tensed, every muscle tightening as he struggled not to respond. The longer the words hung in the air, the harder it was to get breath, his heart hammered.

“Nat.” Cap said softly, but she shushed him.

“Last memory, news.” He said finally. The pressure in his chest eased.

“Damn it, Bruce, he doesn't even remember why he's tied up.” Cap snapped, his warm hands on his wrist. His left hand was free, then his right. 

“Tony?” Bruce said.

“Yeah, I'm ready.” Tony said. He heard a mechanical whir. Tony was in the red suit.

He sat up, waiting for one of them to jump on him, but no one moved.

“Buck. Listen ok? Just. Just listen. You heard my name on the news and you went ballistic. Started attacking me. Tried to kill me.” Cap moved a hand up to the dark bruise.

“Was nearly successful.” Bruce said quietly.

Cap shot him a look. “Jarvis alerted Tony, who knocked you out. We tried the maintenance trigger, but it did nothing. We brought you here and restrained you, since we didn't know if you would be back to yourself or not. I'm sorry. If it helps, if you want proof, Jarvis has it recorded, you can watch…” Cap trailed off and fell silent.

He nodded. “Can we get--” Cap started to say but one of the glass computers was already being passed over his shoulder. An image of the living room was frozen on it.

“Play on mute.” Tony said over his shoulder. 

The image moved. In it, he saw his body go stiff, his mouth opened in a silent howl. He could remember that much. Then, as his memory blanked, the him on the computer stood and swung at Cap, who dodged. There was a brief fight, if you could call it that. He was attacking, Cap either dodging or blocking every swing. Then, he swept the other man's legs. Cap recovered, but in the instant it took, his left hand closed around the man's neck and lifted him. Cap struggled, clawing at his arm and kicking out, but unable to break the hold. Then a flash of red hit him in the back of the head, and he crumpled. The picture froze again. 

He stared at the frozen picture. He held out the computer to Cap, who took it. He stood slowly, watching for a reaction from any of those who stood close by. No one moved to grab him. His way to the elevator was blocked by Cap and Nat but, when he took a single, cautious step forward, Cap stepped out of the way. “What happened doesn't change where you are able to go in the tower.” Cap told him. 

He didn't give Cap time to change his mind. He strode straight to the elevator. “Apartment,” he rasped, once the doors were closed. Stepping out, he saw the evidence left over from their struggle. The coffee table was overturned, his book and Cap's sketchpad on opposite sides of the room, a couch shoved sideways. Pup looked uncertainly up at him from the other couch. He moved straight to his bedroom, shut the door, and slid the dresser in front of it. 

He paced the room several times, but it felt too big, like the space might open up and swallow him. He was vaguely aware of his breathing coming more like gasps than breaths. Cap's advice on how to calm down, looking at the different things, whispered through his mind. He yelled, grabbed the lamp off his bedside table, and flung it at the wall. It shattered, sending shards spraying off the wall. His hands rubbed up and down his arms as he continued to pace. His chest hurt, like he'd been punched in the chest, as well as the head. 

He moved to the closet, grabbed his knife from his bag and curled into the corner of the closet, his left arm jammed into the corner, he sat waiting. 

Why, if they had him captured, would they free him back into the house? To prove they could? He had already known they could. He flexed his hands, trying to stave off the numbness settling into his limbs. 

He had no idea how long he sat there, in his corner shaking, before darkness took his mind and he slept.

January 2

He jumped awake, his head banging against the wall. A groan escaped his lips in the half sleep. His head was pounding. His whole body hurt, his shoulder knotted from sleeping with his weight on it. He struggled to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. Locking the door behind him he stepped into the shower letting the hot water wash over him. The water ran red. He clenched his eyes shut to lock out the wave of nausea that clenched his stomach at the side.

“Time?” He asked the empty bathroom. 

“It is currently 4:52 a.m.” Jarvis replied.

Once dry and dressed, he moved to lay on the bed. He stared at the door, half hidden by the dresser. He couldn't remain locked away forever. He needed to eat, needed to move. If he left would they capture him again? Bind him down to the table, wipe him? As soon as he'd provided a memory report they had freed him. Had they tried to wipe him while he was unconscious then just checked effectiveness after?

He was ready this time though, knew they might trap him. Not eating, not going to the gym would only weaken him. There was no benefit for him to stay locked away.

He jerked awake at a knock on his door. “Buck, breakfast is ready.” Cap called. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. A man's voice echoed in his mind,  _ Steve Rogers.  _ He went stock still waiting for the darkness to cover his eyes but nothing did. He repeated the name over several times in his mind. Maybe he was remembering wrong?

He looked towards the door. If they were going to capture him again he needed to be ready to fight. That meant eating and going to the gym. He stood, pocketed his knife, pushed the dresser away and stepped out into the hall. If they were going to catch him again, he would at least go down fighting.

Cap was in the kitchen, his back to him. He could attack now, get the upper hand, maybe manage to escape. Jarvis would see, call Tony like yesterday. He moved into the living room. The minor damage from yesterday had been cleaned away as if it hadn't happened. 

Instead of waiting for the man to notice him he spoke, “Steve Rogers.”

The man whirled around eyes wide. “Buck? Are you still with me?” He asked. His whole body was tense. He could see the bruise had yellowed and would likely be gone in another hour or two.

“That is your name?” He asked, ignoring the question.

“Yes. Yes, that's my name.  _ Are you ok?”  _ Cap asked, putting emphasis on each of the last three words.

He ignored the words again, moving to sit on the couch. The punishment for not answering was worse than the one for responding inappropriately. 

Cap was quiet a moment then asked, “You want breakfast, Buck?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah.” He said, wondering if Cap would refuse since he'd verbally requested it. 

The question was answered when, moments later, a plate was set next to him on the coffee table. Cap sat on the other couch. He was silent. He picked up the plate and ate fast just in case there was a time limit. A tease before it was ripped away but Cap moved only to eat his own food.

When he finished, he moved into the kitchen, and piled his plate high with seconds before returning to the couch. Cap didn't comment nor try to stop him inhaling the massive plate of food. When he finished, Cap turned on the couch to face him. “Bucky? I'm really sorry about yesterday. I didn't even think about the news saying my name. Then we were all in such a panic since we didn't know what would happen when you woke up. Anyway, everything was wrong and I'm sorry. I know you probably don't believe a word I'm saying but you're still safe here. We all still want to help you get better.”

He looked at Cap and their eyes met. His eyes held no hint of dishonesty. Cap, at least, completely believed what he was saying.

After a few minutes, Cap spoke again. “So you remember my name?”

“Yeah.”

“And at least so far you aren't attacking me.”

When he didn't reply, Cap continued. “Would you be ok going to Tony's shop and letting him scan you while I say my name?”

Rather than speak he stood, moving to the elevator. Cap jumped up and followed.

Tony was sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, when they stepped out, but jumped up when he saw them. “I didn't expect to see you up and around already.” Tony said, brown eyes on him. 

“Tony, Buck still remembers my name. He said it earlier and was ok. Can you run a scan and I'll say it?”

Tony moved with surprising grace through the general debris on the floor to stand in front of them. He smelled strongly of alcohol. “What's his name?” Tony asked him, standing almost too close. 

“Steve Rogers.”

“Huh.” Tony said, before moving away into the lab. “So, yesterday, he hears your name on the news and flies into a homicidal rage. It completely blocks all other known triggers but stops when he loses consciousness.  _ Today, _ he remembers your name, can say it without problem. Perhaps it's an audio-visual trigger, he has to see your face as he hears it? Maybe it just can't be him saying it? Maybe if one of us says it, it's back to attack dog? Or what if? It couldn't be that simple. But if he was dead who would talk about him? What risk would there be? Still some sure but if it was audio visual and--?”

“Tony, do you intend to share?” Cap said through clenched teeth.

Tony didn't answer, “Bucky, could you…?” He gestured to the empty circle. He moved to the normal spot and stood.

“Good. And Cap you need to,” he pulled Cap till the man was just outside the circle, right in front of him.

“Ok, J. Let's get live feed.” The blue computer of his body appeared next to him. “Here we go. Steve Rogers.”

No one moved. He felt nothing. Not the first time nor the three dozen times after. Tony said it, Cap said it, Bruce came in to give it a try. Tony played it over speakers, and computers and TVs. Eventually, he even made the news program from yesterday morning play but nothing happened.

Then just as rapidly as the tests started, Tony stopped. “It has to be then.”

He grabbed one of the handheld computers and brought something up. It was a picture of a piece of paper with Russian writing. Tony passed it to him. “Can you read this in English?”

“Tony, shouldn't Jarvis…” Cap started before tapering off. 

He read carefully, but the translation was rough. “For the final stage of training implanted one-time switch destruction. If it works, the asset will kill as many as possible before ending its own life. For the security of the mission and all involved, this trigger will be passed only from mouth to mouth. The trigger will contain an image, and both of them will work for it.”

He handed the computer back to Tony. “So, taking into account a bit of flexibility in translation, there was a kill switch that required both audio and a picture to work. When set off, he would kill anyone close by, then himself. Because it was so dangerous it's written nowhere. But it's made to only work once.”

“So, you think. You think my name and picture were the kill switch?” Cap said slowly.

Tony smiled. “It's the only thing that makes sense. Every test we ran did nothing.”

“So, that's it? That's all we had to worry about with my name?” Cap said. 

Tony shrugged. “I mean, sure keep an eye on it, but  _ I _ can't think of any more tests, can you?”

Cap stood in silence a moment before speaking. “Well, I guess I'll tell everyone no more reason to call me Cap.”

“Isn't that your name?” Tony said with a smirk. 

“Thank you, Tony.” Cap said, irritation clear in his voice.

He turned, heading for the elevator. Neither Tony nor Cap attempted to stop him. He collected clothes from the apartment and went to the gym. It felt good to work his sore muscles. He wasn't surprised when Cap appeared some time later. 

He didn't try to move away from the bag he was working on even when Cap took up stance on the next bag over. He forced himself to settle on the rhythm and not focus on Cap next to him. 

A sudden boom sent him reeling. His heart pounding in his chest. Gun? Mortar round? Who was shooting. As he turned, searching, a second boom went off. He dropped into a crouch. The room was empty, the walls were covered in water and moss, a musty smell.

“Buck?” 

In an instant, his knife was drawn and pointed at the sound of the voice. Cap stood a few feet away, hands up. Had he been shooting? He couldn't see a weapon.

“Buck. Listen, ok? You're having an anxiety attack. I think the thunder probably freaked you out. Everything is ok. You are safe.” Cap took a step closer. “I can't see what you see. Can you tell me?”

“Hydra.”

“It's ok, Buck. Hydra is gone. I took it down to find you. Listen, I'm going to come to you, ok? So you can feel my arm and know I'm real. Is that ok?”

Cap took a few steps closer. He kept the knife aimed at him. He was close enough now to easily strike. 

“I'm going to touch your arm now, ok?” Cap said. His eyes moved to Cap's hand.  _ He had a knife _ . He lurched backwards. Just as suddenly as he'd seen the knife it was gone. “It's ok. It's ok. That was too much.” Cap said, his voice low. “How about this? I'll stay perfectly still and, when you're ready, you touch my arm instead. Is that ok, Buck?” Cap fell still after that.

He eased closer. If the other man moved he would strike him. He moved the knife to his left hand before reaching out to bump Cap's arm with his right. It felt warm and solid.

“Good.” Cap said, his voice quiet. A sudden boom rang out and he dropped into a crouch. “Easy, Buck. It's just thunder.” Cap moved to kneel down in front of him. “You're in the gym at Tony Stark's tower. We were working out when you heard the thunder. We were both working on the heavy bags. Do you remember?”

He nodded.

“Good. Try to focus on that. We are still there. Hydra is gone. You are safe.”

He closed his eyes. He remembered the gym, the bang. They hadn't moved had they? He blinked a few times. The gym came back into focus. He was crouched on the floor, knife in hand. Cap was kneeling in front of him. A few feet behind them the line of heavy bags hung. 

He took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart. Another boom made him jump but he was able to stay firmly planted on the floor of the gym. He could hear the rain now, barely audible through the soundproofing. 

“Are you back?” Cap asked softly. 

He nodded, looking up at him. Cap stood and offered a hand up. He accepted it, mechanically, and let Cap pull up him.

He felt exhausted. He grabbed his clothes. He'd intended to go swim but now he wanted to sleep. 

“Hey.” Cap called to him. “Want to come to the hot tub with me instead of swimming?”

“Hot tub?”

“Yeah. Come with me. I'll show you and you can decide.”

He wanted to rest but agreeing was easier. He was nodding and following Cap before he had time to think. When the elevator doors opened it was on to a floor he didn't recognize. It looked similar to the showers below but larger with shelves for personal items, racks stacked high with towels, and a line of showers. Cap was walking through the room without slowing so he followed suit. 

He opened a door into a large room. It looked a lot like the pool but the water was lit from within with slowly changing lights. Seats had been sunk into the water with tables between so people could sit at tables while remaining in the water. To the right side was a bar, complete with sunk in bar stools. All the surrounding walls were glass with the city visible through them. As he watched, a crack of lightning arched across the sky.

Cap moved over and put a hand into the water before looking over expectantly. He mimicked the action. The water was hot against his skin. It felt amazing. 

Cap was smiling. “It can also do this.” Cap stood, and moved to the wall. Touching it, a computer appeared. Cap touched a few things and the water next to him began to bubble. He jumped but Cap seemed to expect it. “Jets.” He said. “Feels great on your back.”

He dropped his arm back into the water and watched as the water pushed his hand away. 

“Want to get in?” Cap asked. He nodded.

Cap headed back for the shower and he followed easily. He rinsed and changed in the shower. Cap was still in the shower as he began to walk to the door.

“Hey. The water isn't as deep, so don't try to dive in.” Cap warned.

He walked through the door to the edge of the hot tub and just kept walking. He fell the short distance into the sunken pool and landed easily on his feet. The water came up to his chest. He lowered himself down till just his head stayed out of the water, his eyes closed. It felt even better now that he was all the way in. He moved around the large pool before settling on one of the seats along the wall of the hot tub. He could easily see both the windows and the door into the room. Letting his head lay back, he took a deep breath, the heat settling into his body.

The sound of the door opening announced Cap's arrival. He sat on the edge and slid into the water. “Tony is a bit more protective of this place” Cap told him, moving over to the bar, “Because this stays fully stocked.” Cap pulled a beer from a cooler behind the bar. “Want one?”

Was he allowed to drink or was this a test? He nodded. Cap grabbed a second beer and brought it over. 

“Don't know how the serum affected you, but I haven't been able to get past a light buzz since.” He said offering the bottle.

He twisted the top off and took a drink. It burned his mouth and all the way down. With the burn, dozens of memories floated to the surface. At least half a dozen bars, the dull murmur of background noise and stale stink that filled them. A few of the military, the rare times they could get alcohol. And a few much farther back of the apartment, sitting in the dark after sunset, passing the bottle back and forth with someone he knew he wouldn't be able to see even if the memory had occurred during the light of day. 

The strange, buzzing darkness had not faded after learning the man's name. He took another long drink, letting the fire settle into his stomach. They drank in silence. When he finished the bottle, Cap grabbed them both another round. 

He still felt tired but, between the water heating his skin and the alcohol, he felt comfortable. He turned to watch the lightning flash across the sky. It felt closer than it should, being this high up. Letting his head fall back, he watched the strange patterns the slowly changing lights reflecting through the water made on the ceiling.

He wasn't sure how much time passed in silence. Cap passed him a new bottle any time he was empty but it didn't make him feel anything but warm. 

Cap moved over to the edge of the hot tub and pulled himself up. “I'm going to start dinner. If you want to stay down here, I'll have Jarvis let you know when I'm done.” He slipped through the door into the showers.

He closed his eyes again, resting the back of his head against the smooth wall of the hot tub. A boom of thunder sounded outside. It was quieter now. The storm was moving away.

He thought back over his memories, plugging the name Steve into the open, fuzzy gaps in his mind. It seemed to fit most places. Zola holding the telegraph stuck out in his mind. Even with the last name included it didn't fit. What else had the man on TV called him? Captain America.

That fit. He forced Zola's horrible smiling face to say it in his mind. Captain America. He could hear his own voice say it, too.  _ Let's hear it for Captain America. _ Frowning, he tried to remember. He'd been in pain. So much pain. What had they injected him with? The men who came down that way never came back. Would he die like them? Alone in the dark.

Then, he was walking, surrounded by his own men, rescued. The pain was so intense he might black out, but it was time to march now and his body marched on while his brain screamed. In front of him a man, someone who knew him better than anyone. Steve. 

“Dinner is ready.” Jarvis cut through his memories and he jumped, snapping back to reality.

He pulled himself out of the water, showered, dressed, and headed to the elevator. The warm smell of food filled his nose.

Steve passed him a plate as he walked by. He sat on the couch and dug in. 

“Worked up an appetite today. Buck?” Steve asked, his tone light. “You know, if you'd quit finding ways to skip lunch, you wouldn't be half starved by dinner.”

He didn't answer, focused instead on eating. The earlier exhaustion was settling into his bones. He finished two plates of food before stretching out on the couch, intending to read.

He woke with a jump, someone was speaking to him. “Come on, Buck. Let's get you to bed.”

Opening his eyes, he saw Steve standing next to the couch. His book was sitting on the coffee table. He must have dropped it. 

Steve's hand grasped his, pulling him up. Steve pulled too hard and he lost balance, stumbling forward into Steve's chest. Steve's free hand came to his shoulder. “Easy.” Steve murmured. 

He righted himself and headed down the hall. He crawled into bed still fully clothed. Pup's head rested on his hip and he was asleep before Jarvis started the sounds up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Translation in the end notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

January 9

He woke to a knock at the door, to let him know breakfast was ready. He let Pup out before heading to shower. Once dressed, he grabbed a mug, filled it with coffee, and grabbed his plate before sitting at the table. 

Just as he started to eat, the elevator opened and Pup bounded out, her brown fur flecked with snow. She shook as soon as she was close to him, showering him in the icy crystals.

“Morning.” Steve said, grabbing his own mug off the counter and sitting down across from him. 

“Morning.” He said. 

“I'm thinking gym, then hot tub for awhile before lunch.” Steve said, taking a bite of eggs. 

He nodded. Today was one of the days Steve didn't have a meeting, which meant company in his morning routine. They had been sparring more lately, along with Nat. It helped round out his workout. He was starting to look more like the asset again, muscle covering the skin and bone he had been before.

Steve took up the plates as he went to grab clothes to work out in. Jarvis spoke, causing them both to pause in their movements. “Mr. Barnes, Dr. Banner is requesting your presence in the lab.”

Steve spoke almost immediately, “Did he say why?”

Jarvis was quiet for a moment, the voice traveling the dozens of floors separating them to ask Steve's question. Then, Jarvis spoke again. “He believes he's found a cure for the hormonal imbalance and would like to run some tests.”

Steve looked surprised for half a moment before looking at him. “What do you think, Buck?”

He nodded and turned. No need for a change of clothes if they were going to the lab. Once Steve turned back around, his hand rested on the strangely numb spot on his right arm. The thumb of his left arm scratched softly, the sensation weakening and strengthening depending on how close to the injection he was. He really wanted to go get his clothes and go to the gym instead.

Steve moved to the elevator and he followed. He counted the moments as they descended and let out a breath when they passed Bruce's lab. He had not been back into the lab since the day he'd first heard Steve's name and he would be more than happy to never enter the lab again. 

Bruce was waiting for them when the doors opened. Tony was nowhere to be seen. Bruce looked tense, his body tucked in on itself more than normal. He didn't speak when they approached. Steve finally broke the silence, “Hey, Bruce. Jarvis said you had an update?”

“Yeah.” Bruce said. “I uh. I think I have the hormone thing figured out. I would like to do a small test this morning, then take a blood sample mid day to make sure it's working. Then we will have a couple of options for a long term fix. Bucky, if you want, I was able to make the cure into pill form. You would take--.”

“No.” He cut across Bruce. “No pills.” 

Bruce opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking again. “Uh. Yeah, if you don't want the pill, the only other option is a shot. The pills would be better. Much more gradual.”

He shook his head and repeated, “No pills.”

“Okay.” Bruce said. “Well, let's get the first one done.” Bruce moved to the closest workbench and prepared a shot. “This dose is small enough you shouldn't have any side effects but it will let me check the numbers I need.” 

Bruce tore open an antiseptic wipe and cleaned his shoulder. There was a soft pinch and a low burn, then nothing. “Okay. I'll catch up with you around lunch to see how things are going and draw some blood.” Bruce said, removing the gloves he'd had on.

“Still want to work out?” Steve asked. He nodded. 

They grabbed clothes from the apartment then headed to the gym. He climbed immediately into the boxing ring. Steve raised an eyebrow but followed without question. Steve no longer took it easy on him when they sparred. Normally they both came out with bruises. Still, the familiarity and exertion helped. He always felt better after. Steve managed to drop him first but he bounced up before he could be pinned.

By the time he managed to get Steve pinned, they were both breathing heavy. Steve tried for several moments, without success, to roll them or break his hold before finally admitting defeat. Steve tapped his leg and let his head drop onto the mat. 

He rolled off to crouch next to Steve on the mat. They both sat, breathing hard for several moments. He stood and offered Steve his hand. A strange look ghosted over Steve's face but he allowed himself to be pulled up. 

He moved over to his side of the ring and grabbed a drink from his water then rolled his shoulder to flex out the soreness in the muscle. By the time he turned, Steve had squared up, ready to go again.

When they broke apart for the fifth time, Steve spoke. “Ok, let's break. I want to eat before Bruce shows up.”

He nodded.

Steve was just clearing away plates when Jarvis announced Bruce requesting access to the floor. He gained his feet and moved to get the screwdriver. By the time he was back in the room Bruce stood in the entry. He looked more like himself than he had in the lab. Bruce carried two empty vials.

He tossed the screw driver to Steve and sat at the table. Steve easily opened the correct plate and then very carefully removed the line. There was a lot less risk of the line getting pulled when Steve removed it. Still, it felt foreign and made his heart pound. Steve carefully lined up and filled the vials without any difficulty before handing them back to Bruce. 

He let his eyes fall closed as Steve replaced the line and then the plate. “Any strange feelings, pain, nausea? Really anything out of the ordinary?” Bruce asked.

He shook his head no.

“I think I found a way to spread the shot out into multiple doses to reduce the side effects but I am worried about the effectiveness.”

He shook his head no.

“Somehow, I think I knew that answer already. Okay, what time do you normally go to bed?”

“Between ten and eleven.” Steve answered

“Let's make it eleven. I will do the injection immediately before you go to sleep. Hopefully, you can just sleep through most of the side effects.” He turned to Steve. “You will need to be ready to help if symptoms come up. We are effectively shutting down and minimizing production of hormones regularly found in the body. He may feel sick, it may hurt, honestly, it will hurt. He may be dizzy or confused or disoriented. He may hallucinate. The only thing we can do is keep him calm till it passes. I'm hopeful that he will sleep and make it to morning without symptoms. By then, things should be leveling out and he won't need to be monitored.”

Steve nodded. 

“I am going to go run some tests on this to make sure I've got the dose dialed in. I will see you both tonight.” Bruce moved to the elevators and left.

“You sure about this Buck?” Steve asked quietly.

_ No.  _ “Yeah.” He said. He didn't want any part of this. He never wanted anyone to fuck around in his mind again. 

Steve nodded. “I'm gonna watch TV for awhile.” Steve said before stretching out on the couch.

He briefly considered meeting Nat but instead settled into the couch with his book. 

He found eating dinner to be difficult. A feeling of sickness had settled deep in his stomach and nothing seemed to make it ease. As eleven drew close, he found it increasingly hard to read until, finally, he set the book down and just waited, eyes closed.

“You ok?” Steve asked.

_ No.  _ “Yeah.” He said

He felt the heat of Steve's eyes on him for a long moment before he returned to watching TV.

“I'm nervous, too.” Steve said, without looking over.

Was this what nervous felt like? Surely a lifetime had passed and he'd never felt anything like this. But then, with his memories so scattered.

He nearly jumped off the couch when Jarvis announced Bruce wanting access. After speaking to Jarvis, Steve stood and offered his hand. Steve pulled him up, but held his hand for a moment, his other hand resting on his shoulder. “Breathe.” Steve told him. 

He pulled in a deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The rush of air made his head spin. How long had he been holding his breath? Steve stepped away, letting go of his shoulder slowly to be sure he was stable. 

Bruce stepped out of the elevator. “Hey, guys.” Bruce said. “So, the tests all came back good, this should work. I was able to make the shot one we can give through the left arm as well, to make things as comfortable as possible. Do you want to do this out here or in his bedroom?”

Steve paused a moment. “How fast would symptoms start to show?”

“Probably 30-40 minutes. Maybe an hour at most.” Bruce pulled out a large syringe. 

“Out here is fine. His bedroom is kind of his space.” Steve said before looking at him. “Which plate for an injection?”

He touched the plate and Steve went to grab the screwdriver. 

“Bucky?” Bruce said. He turned to look at the smaller man. “I want you to know I'm sorry for any stress I caused the other day. No one wanted to restrain you, but we were not sure how dangerous things may be, and you almost killed Steve. I know waking up that way was hard for you.”

He didn't answer. Steve was back with the screwdriver. He sat on the couch and Steve sat sideways next to him. The warmth from Steve's knee seeped into his leg where they touched while Steve removed the plate.

Bruce set the end of the syringe into the valve. He watched the amber liquid enter the tube, mixing for a split second with the red before disappearing down into his arm. “Get some sleep.” Bruce told him, then, “If things get too wild tonight, call me.” To Steve.

Steve reattached the plate in record time and bid him goodnight. He changed into pajama pants and crawled into bed. Pup was remaining with Steve tonight in case Bruce's predictions came true. 

As the first whispers of a headache started to form he drifted off to sleep.

January 10

Someone was speaking very nearby. He struggled to drag his eyes open. Everything felt heavy and sluggish. Steve. Steve was by his bed, speaking. He couldn't understand him. He blinked, tried to focus. “вы думаете, что вам удалось убежать, но вы все еще в ловушке. вы никогда не покинете Гидру.” 

Russian? Steve didn't speak Russian. He blinked, slow and heavy. Steve was gone. He sat up, panic settling over him. He rubbed his face and opened his eyes. Steve was back, looming over him, smiling, a mouth full of too many teeth, eyes red. 

He lurched up, shoving against Steve who fell backwards and vanished. He stumbled to his feet. The sweet-sick smell of mildew filled his nose. From somewhere far away he heard an alarm. Someone was attacking the compound. He needed to. Needed to. Fight? Escape? 

He stumbled towards the lab door. He couldn't hear any of the scientists. How long had the alarm been going off? He fell against the door and it swung open, banging into the wall. He ran into the wall on the other side of the hall and leaned against it as the world spun.

“Buck!” He turned. Steve was back, this time in only pajama pants, hair sticking up at strange angles. “Buck. Hey. Come here.”

He shoved hard against Steve but he remained solid and standing. Why was he in the base? He needed to leave, if they saw him.

“Need to leave.” He told Steve. Was he the reason the alarms were going off? That would mean Hydra would be coming down on them at any moment. They had to move. He tried to take a step but tripped. Steve's hands caught him up short of falling, pulled him up so he was leaned back on his chest. “Need to leave.” He said again. 

“I know.” Steve told him, his voice quiet. “Close your eyes, just for a second.” He did. “We are in our apartment. We are in New York. You are safe. Hydra is gone. I can't see what you see but I want to help. Just stay with me, ok?” 

He nodded, letting his eyes open. Their apartment swam into view as the world tried to spin again. He stepped forward slowly and Steve didn't stop him this time. He sat on the couch and rubbed his face. 

“Well, you slept an hour, so I'm guessing more to come.” Steve said. His voice sounded thick. “Lay down and try to rest. I'll stay up.”

He nodded and laid down. Now that the images were gone his head was pounding. He dropped an arm over his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep again. He jumped when Steve covered him with the soft blanket from his bed.

Steve dropped heavily onto the other couch and tossed a blanket over himself. “Are you hurting?” Steve asked him quietly. 

“Yes.” He said, the word slipping out before he realized he was speaking. 

Steve stood and moved into the kitchen. He returned a few moments later with a glass of water. “Drink all of this.”

He did without questioning what it was. If it helped soothe the pain he was willing to try it. Steve laid back down, pulling the blanket back over himself. “Try to rest.” Steve said into the quiet.

Whatever was in the water Steve had given him was helping. The pain in his mind was easing, leaving exhaustion in its wake. He closed his eyes.

The smell of breakfast brought him awake slowly. Sitting up and rubbing his face, he looked into the kitchen. Steve was cooking, his back to him. Even from behind Steve looked tired. Had he slept any? He had looked so tired last night. 

“Morning.” He said. Steve turned quickly. 

“Hey. How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Better.” He rolled his shoulders, working out the tightness in his neck from sleeping on the couch. 

“Yeah?” Steve was smiling. “Bruce is wanting to see you after breakfast, check on everything, ok?”

_ No.  _ He opened his mouth to agree and stopped. “No.” He said. 

Steve looked surprised. “No for after breakfast or no in general?”

“No in general.” He said, a tiny bubble of frustration popping in his chest. 

Steve hesitated a moment. “You heard the man, Jarvis.” He said finally.

“Indeed.” Jarvis spoke.

He moved towards his room but Steve's voice stopped him. “Hey, Buck. You know Bruce is only trying to help right? I know his methods are not always the best but he really does want to help.”

He didn't have an answer for that, so he stayed quiet as he moved into the bedroom and through to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, stripped, and let the hot water warm his skin.

He sighed. Steve was right. Everything Bruce did had been to help. His left hand moved to the patch of numb skin. Maybe not everything. But if it was true that his body had simply adjusted to the constant pain and over stimulation then even the numbness was a positive. He hadn't liked waking up to the restraints but he'd seen the video. He had been set on killing Steve before they knocked him out. It only made sense he'd have the same intentions when he woke. 

“Jarvis?” he spoke into the empty bathroom. 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes?” Jarvis replied immediately.

“Tell Bruce I will come to the lab after breakfast.”

“Very good, Sir.” Jarvis said.

When he returned to the living room, Steve offered him a plate. “Jarvis said you want to see Bruce after all, is everything ok?”

“Yes.” He sat at the table and began to eat.

Steve didn't pressure him for more information, which gave his mind time to wander as they ate.

Steve came with him down to the lab. Bruce was waiting for them when the elevator doors opened. He glanced around and spotted Tony, sitting on the couch in the corner, looking disheveled. He wondered how often Tony crashed down here, instead of in bed upstairs.

“Morning guys.” Bruce said easily. He nodded a welcome. His eyes scanned the room, identifying as much of the equipment as he could. He knew he'd seen it before but it felt different to see it now. “How are you feeling, Bucky?” Bruce asked.

“Tired.” He said honestly, then, “But better.”

Bruce nodded but Steve piped up, “Better how?”

He thought for a moment before answering, “I know you're not the enemy.”

Steve did nothing to hide the surprise on his face. “That's great, Buck.” He said, smiling. “That's really great.”

Tony had rolled to his feet and wandered over to them. As he got closer, it became more apparent that he looked like hell. Steve followed his eyes to Tony and voiced what he'd been wondering, “Tony, are you sick or something?”

Tony let out a bark of laughter that was harsh and mirthless. “No.” He said.

He continued to watch Tony as Bruce started speaking to him about numbers and chemicals. Tony didn't seem to be absorbing any of it. Bruce seemed to pick up on that, too, as he fell silent. Bruce turned back to Steve. “Were the hallucinations bad?” 

“I was able to calm him pretty easily. I gave him some of that pain powder you made for me to help with the headache and he slept pretty easily after that.”

Bruce nodded. “So, we will monitor levels a bit over the next week, just to be sure the dose was correct. If you feel anything strange, don't hesitate to tell Steve or me.”

He nodded. “You should rest today. Your body is having to adjust to a pretty big change, so feeling tired is normal.” 

When they returned to the apartment, he grabbed the comms and music player Steve had given him for Christmas. He stretched out on the couch, pulled the soft blanket over himself, and began to pick more recent songs at random. Some he liked. A few sounded a lot like something Tony would blare in his lab. He was surprised to find that jazz still seemed popular and didn't sound vastly different to what he remembered. One song seemed to just be a man talking as fast as possible without actually singing anything.

“You like all of these?” He asked Steve, pulling one of the comms out to hear him answer. 

Steve was stretched out on the other couch, sketchbook open. He always stared out the window when he drew. Could there really be that much to draw from their window? “Honestly? I don't like a lot of it but I wanted you to hear it all. There is a lot to catch up on. You need to make your own preferences. Why, something you don't like?” 

“Rap?” he said uncertainly, reading off the small screen.

Steve laughed. He was distantly aware the sound was making him smile. It felt strange. 

“Rap isn't my thing either, pal.” Steve said, a smile still lighting his face. “Put your thumb on the thing that looks like a file folder next to rap and hold it there. It should pop up an option to delete.”

He followed the instructions and the section disappeared. 

“You can do that for individual songs too, if you find one you don't like just press and hold on the song name.”

He nodded, quickly backtracking to remove several songs he remembered not liking.

It was dinner before he put the device back in his room, plugging it in to charge like Steve had shown him. After dinner, Steve was going to start teaching him how to use the new computers to start catching up on some of the backlog of information of the past decades.

After an hour of explanation on the handheld computer, which Steve told him was a tablet, he was released onto the internet. He and Steve sat shoulder to shoulder as he searched for things on the Google. It turned out to be incredibly intuitive, for the most part, but also nothing like Jarvis. 

Steve watched and prompted him on aspects as he searched for and read about things. Steve had suggested he search for things he could remember, to start, and avoid searching names, just to get the hang of it. He typed in battles and shops and anything else he could remember. 

He had just finished reading what someone said about one of the battles he'd fought in. He tried to think of something else but his eyes were hurting, which made his head pound. “Is it normal for this to hurt your eyes?” He asked.

Steve took the tablet out if his hands. “That's called eye strain. It comes from looking at screens for too long. You will be especially susceptible, since your eyes aren't used to it. More tomorrow, ok?”

He wasn't keen to argue, the pounding in his skull made thinking hard. He slipped back to the other couch and slipped both comms back into his ears, content to listen to music till it was time to sleep.

January 17

He woke up slowly, the dull thump of bass in his ear. He'd fallen asleep with the comms in again. A few days ago, he'd figured out the music was at least fairly effective at keeping away nightmares. In all his time in training, and even on missions, music had been absent, so pumping it in as he slept seemed to keep him from dreaming anything.

Jarvis had set up to play it instead of the city sounds but more often he fell asleep, comms still in his ears. It felt more effective that way, though he didn't know if it really was.

Standing, he let Pup out so Steve could take her outside before heading to the bathroom. He pulled the comms out and set them to charge. Jarvis seamlessly picked up the song he'd been playing so he could still listen as he got ready.

Showered, shaved, dried, and dressed he slipped into the hall. Steve was already sitting at the table eating when he came in. “Morning.” He said, as he crossed to the kitchen to make his own plate.

“Morning. I didn't hear any music this morning. Fall asleep with your music in again?” Steve asked.

“I sleep better that way.” He said, defensively.

“Yeah, sure.” Steve said. “It's the same music.”

He rolled his eyes before sitting. They ate in relative silence. He still preferred the quiet. He was getting better at talking but it didn't feel like him, just words from a past life sliding from his lips.

“What are you up to today?” Steve asked

“Nat is back and wanted to spar for awhile.” He said. She had been gone with Clint since the new year. Jarvis had passed on the message last night, since Tony was still finishing his phone.

Tony apparently made phones for everyone. He hadn't fully understood the reasoning when Steve had explained but the general concept was that Tony's phones were safer and that part made sense. 

Over the past week catching up on the last several decades via technology had taken up most of his time. Movies, current events, news, music, all of it ran together in his mind. He'd gotten better at the tablet. He and Steve still sat shoulder to shoulder every night as he tapped on the screen of the tablet. 

The internet, in spite of Steve's half attempt to explain it as a library, was full of everything he'd possibly need to know and more. Every couple days, Steve would introduce him to a new website to learn about. Steve said that he'd get his own email and social media sites soon.

“Mr. Barnes, Sir is requesting your presence in the workshop.” Jarvis said as he moved to the sink to wash his plate.

“I'll be right down.” He said, consciously continuing to stare at his plate as he washed. No one else looked up to talk to Jarvis. It was a habit he was trying to break. Looking over at Steve, “Meet you in the gym?” 

Steve nodded. 

Tony's music disappeared into the background as he stepped off the elevator. Tony was sitting at one of the workbenches fiddling with something.

“Tony. Awake before noon. What's the occasion?”

Tony spun in his chair, doing his best to look offended. “I  _ was _ going to give you something but if you're going to be an ass then nevermind.”

He paused mid step. “So, we’re good, cause I can go…” He trailed off, taking a few steps back. 

Tony hesitated but, when he couldn't apparently think of an appropriate quip, just glared, “Get over here.”

He smirked and moved to stand next to Tony, who rose from his chair. “Got your phone finished.” Tony said, passing him the cell phone. “Everyone's numbers are already in there. Cap said you've been working with his phone some, too?” 

“Yeah.” He said, taking the phone from Tony. It felt so light and delicate. Knowing there was a computer inside such a tiny object still felt impossible.

As though hearing his thoughts, Tony spoke, “It's made out of a compound I created that's almost as sturdy as vibranium. I've seen one take a bullet and still mostly work, so don't stress if you drop it. If you forget how to do anything, Steve or I can help. Just stay off social media till you've been properly vetted.”

Deciding he could catch up with Steve and Nat a bit later, he asked, “How do you make it?”

Tony looked surprised by the question. “Which part?”

He considered that question a moment but knew what he was most curious about. “The computer parts. How does it work?”

Tony smiled. He was pretty sure it was one of the first real smiles he'd seen from Tony since he'd come to the tower. “Come over here. I've got a new one I’ve been working on.” Tony moved through some of the storage on the wall, rummaging until he found what he needed. “Pull up a chair.” He told him as he sat whatever he'd found on the table.

He pulled a chair up next to Tony and leaned over, looking at the roughly phone shaped object Tony had brought. Tony, as it turned out, was a surprisingly good teacher given the chance. He listened closely to each question and was willing to answer multiple ways until it made sense and by the time they finished, he had at least a rough working knowledge of how the phone worked.

“If you ever want to learn about anything like this, just let me know.” Tony said as he left to catch up with Nat and Steve. 

He changed quickly then hopped the elevator down to the gym. Nat and Steve were in the ring. It looked like Steve was already starting to tire. Steve's fighting style was so different from his. He was willing to let himself get hit if it meant getting close enough to land blows of his own. He, by contrast, just preferred not to get hit.

Steve took a hit hard enough to send him sprawling, only to lurch up before Nat could pin him and rush again. Again, the hit was hard enough to send him backwards. The third hit sent him back to the mat.

“I swear, I think he likes getting punched.” He told Nat. 

Steve's eyes went wide and he stared over at him. Nat pinned him but Steve didn't try to fight and after a moment, when it was obvious he wasn't going to keep fighting, she let him up.

“Buck, you remember something or…” Steve stood, slowly moving over. 

This had been happening with increased frequency. He was echoing things from the past. Steve assured him it was normal but it always felt uncomfortable, like seeing something somewhere it had no business being. “Nothing.”

Steve turned away but he didn't need to see the other man's face to know he was disappointed. Steve always looked disappointed when he didn't actually remember whatever the words tied back to.

“You're up, Soldier.” Nat said with a smile. “Steve needs a break.” 

Glad for the distraction, he pulled himself into the ring. He and Nat were 2-2 when Steve told him they should probably have lunch. 

After lunch, Steve helped him figure out things on his phone. It was set up almost identical to Steve's, which helped. Steve had moved his music over into the phone, too, so if he was away from his room, he would only need one tiny computer in his pocket. 

When Steve got up and moved into the kitchen, he was confused until he saw the time. Had it really been hours since lunch? He set the phone down and grabbed his book. His eyes were quickly adjusting to screens but reading still seemed to prevent them from getting too strained.

In spite of doing nothing for hours, he was still hungry when Steve passed him a plate. “Remember a few weeks ago, when you said Tony would shit kittens if I ever let him look at my arm?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“I think it's time for a new pet.”

Steve laughed, warm and deep. Every time he heard it, he couldn't stop himself smiling. He enjoyed every second of Steve's laughter. When Steve finally caught his breath, he asked, “So you're going to let Tony check it out?”

“Yeah. I think so. Here in a few days.”

Steve nodded. “You don't have to, you know?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“He won't do anything bad though. You're safe. And if you're comfortable with it, he would love to.”

“I know he wouldn't hurt me.” He said.

“I know you do. It's just still weird after so many months. I'm sorry we didn't try to help that sooner. I wish--”

He'd heard this several times and cut Steve off before he got going too much.

“I think I will in a few days. I'm going to the hot tub for awhile, if you want to come.”

Steve nodded, a smile on his face.

Less than 20 minutes later, they were both settled in the hot tub. His eyes closed, content, as the water heated him through. Tony had said he felt cold more acutely than most, maybe that's why the hot water felt so amazing.

“I talked a bit to Bruce.” Steve said. 

He opened his eyes and looked at the other man, waiting for him to continue. 

“About how things will feel after he finishes the other serum. He wants to do it at night again before bed. He said for normal people to adjust to the temperature change would be about 10 days but with the serum he's hoping you will adjust within 24 to 48 hours. I have a few thermal blankets coming in but you're still going to feel freezing until you can adjust. Bruce suggested sleeping together might help, since body temperature naturally drops at night. That part is up to you, though.”

He nodded. He wasn't looking forward to the coldness or the deadening of feeling. “How much longer till it’s ready?”  _ How long do I have before this hurdle? _

“He's still a few weeks out.” Steve said. He nodded. Another problem for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> вы думаете, что вам удалось убежать, но вы все еще в ловушке. вы никогда не покинете Гидру  
>  -You think you managed to escape, but you are still trapped. You will never leave Hydra
> 
> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Peter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

January 28

He stepped off the elevator into Tony's shop. He'd asked Jarvis to let him know when Tony was up and around but had been surprised when Jarvis had alerted him around 10:30. He'd planned to go to the gym before this but it was fine. Tony was sitting at a workstation, looking half awake. Bruce sat across from him and they were looking at a bunch of numbers and graphs floating between them.

Tony spotted him first. “Buck? Is everyone unaware how horrifically early it is?” Tony grumbled. Bruce must have woken him up then.

“Bucky? Is everything ok?” Bruce sounded considerably more concerned.

“I'm good. Finish whatever that is.” He said, grabbing a chair and pulling it up next to Tony. Bruce hesitated, then resumed talking. It all flew way over his head but it still felt familiar. Scientists talking about things that made no sense. Bruce really did have a calming voice given a chance. Tony cut in sporadically but otherwise was silent.

Tony stood and pointed out several things in the blue numbers. Bruce frowned, then replied. It sounded like they were wrapping up. Sure enough, with a wave the numbers all moved from floating to Bruce's tablet and he headed for the elevator.

Tony turned to him. “And how the fuck can I help you today?” He asked. While he was obviously frustrated and tired, his voice held no real heat. 

He was getting better at talking to Tony. He was learning to just speak, not let himself think. If he thought too hard, things came out wrong. If he let himself speak spur of the moment, glimpses of his old personally would shine through. He knew that's what it was because Steve had told him.

“I was going to be nice to you but if you're gonna be an ass, then nevermind.” He shot back, looking directly at Tony for the first time since he came down. In spite of sleeping till noon most days, Tony looked constantly tired. His eyes held the weight of someone who slept far less than they needed. Tony looked like Bruce had rolled him out of bed; hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, and tired eyes.

Tony sniffed. He was trying and failing to hide the curiosity in his eyes. “Fine, what?” 

“Go shower first. Wake up a bit. Then I'll tell you.” 

Tony glared and set his feet. He waited. It took a moment but Tony finally turned on his heel and stomped toward a door across the lab. “I could be asleep right now.” Tony called back as he walked.

“Sir, you have an appointment in 3 hours.” Jarvis said.

“Exactly! Three more hours of sleep if these fuckers didn't have to come and wake--” Whatever else Tony said wasn't audible as he snapped the door shut behind himself.

A few moments later Jarvis spoke, “Please help yourself to coffee. Mr. Stark will be available shortly.”

He moved over to the coffee maker in the small kitchen in the corner of the shop. Finding a clean mug was a bit of a trick but finally he found them crammed into a shelf under some electronic components. 

As he filled a mug for himself and one for Tony, Tony came out of what he assumed was a bathroom. His hair was wet and he was pulling on a fresh shirt. He passed him the mug, which Tony took wordlessly and drank in one swallow.

“I'm all dressed up and pretty, now what?” Tony asked. 

He smirked. “So, Steve seems to be under the impression you'd like to take more time to study my arm first hand, instead of on the computer.”

“You're serious?” Tony asked. 

“Yeah.”

Tony refilled and downed another mug of coffee. “Well, ok then!” Tony lead him back over to the chairs where they had been earlier. “You going to let me take the screws out?” Tony asked. He caught the joke in the man's tone but, honestly, it probably wouldn't hurt to have more than Steve know the combination.

“Only if you can follow directions. The charge may be gone but I still prefer them to come out in order.”

Tony was sitting next to him a moment later, looking like a kid in a candy store. If you looked closely, the edge of exhaustion was just visible past the unbridled excitement. He set his arm into maintenance. “Do you have to think or focus to do that?” Tony asked, a hand resting on one of the plates. 

“Do you have to think to move your fingers?” 

“That intuitive?” Tony asked but he got the idea he didn't need to reply.

Where Steve was slow and methodical, Tony removed the screws with a deft prescission that could only come from a lifetime working with tools. The texture of his hands were rougher than Steve's from years of work. They had the same warmth as Steve's, though. 

Rather than pausing to ask questions as they went, Tony removed each plate without saying a word. Once he was done, he leaned back in his chair, hand moving up to rub at his face. After a few moments of silence he held up his own left hand, his right still resting on his chin. “Can you…?” Tony opened his hand wide, spreading his fingers. 

He mimicked the movement. A moment later, Tony made a fist with his left hand. He repeated the motion. Tony took him through several more movements in silence. Tony's eyes never stopped moving and he could swear he could see the other man thinking through the intense brown eyes. 

“Can I ask. Can I ask about before? Because this was not the first arm they gave you.”

“It was not.” He agreed. Then, after a moment's thought, “Yes, you can ask.”

Tony nodded and stood, reappearing a moment later with a file folder. He pulled out a picture. Grainy and black and white, it was clearly a picture from the videos Hydra had taken. It showed him, kneeling, eyes full of rage, as he screamed at the camera. It had been months into his captivity, each rib stood out, visible even in the low quality of the picture. Blood and dirt patched his body. The visible skin almost pure white against the dark background. He still had most of his left arm then, a crude metal tube jutted out from the end of the useless stump. A metal claw had been welded to the end.

“You ok?” Tony asked, his voice a lot quieter than normal. 

Was he? It was strange to see himself like that. He could remember it happening, vaguely, but he didn't really feel tied to it. It could just as easily be someone else in the picture. He nodded. “Yeah. I'm good.”

“So, this was the first attempt then? At making an arm? The few notes there are make it less than clear.”

He shook his head. “They were testing if my body could handle that kind of metal grafted to it and how I would handle the weight. They never planned to keep that on my arm.”

Tony leaned over, right hand finally leaving his face to jot something down. 

“Didn't work.” He continued softly. “The whole area got infected. They ended up having to cut more off my arm as a result.” 

Tony nodded. “Which is why,” he pulled out 3 more photos, “All the rest seem to be the same metal your arm is now?” The three photos were all close up pictures of his arm. He preferred those, he decided.

He pointed to each one in turn, explaining the pros and cons, the reason behind the changes. This one had a really good range of motion but would shock him without warning. That one tended to burn up motors during combat. 

Tony listened closely, writing occasionally. “So, then, what happened to go from this,” Tony motioned to the ¾ arm in the picture, “To this?” Tony touched the connection point where metal and flesh met on his chest.

“They got too trusting.” He said quietly. Tony, to his benefit, didn't push, he stayed quiet as he gathered his thoughts. “They left me off ice too long, thought the programming would hold. One night, I took my knife and tried to cut it off. I ran the knife into my shoulder and just kept going. I nearly bled out before they found me. It almost had the desired effect. They took it off. They just put a much larger one on, instead.”

Tony was silent for several long moments after that story. “But you're fine now? With your arm, I mean.”

“Yeah.” 

Tony nodded and grabbed the final images from the file, spreading them across the bench. “Then the rest seem to just be iterations and modifications of this one.” He nodded, explaining the other 5 pictures. All the changes had been minimal. One change reduced bone vibrations when he shot, another added the mesh to keep knives out from between the plates, another still added a special coating to the inside and outside of the plates to prevent water or dirt getting in. “The last change, this one.” He pointed, “Was the addition of the red lines. That was the last major work they did.”

“So when did they add the neurosensors?” Tony asked. 

He pointed to one of the ¾ arms. “That was one of the big changes they made here. It's why the style changed.”

“So, when you were trying to cut it off…”

“Yeah, I felt everything.” He said, gathering where Tony was trying to go with the conversation.

“Fucking Hell” Tony mumbled. 

He turned to look as the soft sound of the elevator doors opening broke the abnormal silence of the lab. Bruce was back, Steve behind him. 

“Tony, I ran a few simulations in the lab and I don't think that fix is working.” Bruce said, not looking up. 

“What do you mean not working?” Tony asked, standing, then looking at him, “I'll be right back.”

Steve moved past where Bruce had stopped and came to lean against the bench. Steve's eyes fell on the pictures Tony had spread out, coming to rest on the first claw like arm. “Shit, Buck.” He whispered, picking up the picture.

It was only then he remembered Nat saying Steve had refused to look at the videos and pictures from Hydra. Maybe he should have warned him. 

He heard Tony beckoning Bruce over. Tony plucked the picture out of Steve's hands. “You don't want to see that, remember?” Tony said, tucking it away with the other pictures.

Steve didn't speak, just stared at the folder like it might jump up and attack him at any moment.

“Do the muscles have any feeling?” Tony asked and he pulled his attention back to Tony's face.

“What?” He asked.

“The muscles, in the areas you don't have nerves, can you feel anything there?”

“No?” He said, watching Tony. 

“Do like I do again?” Tony asked before stretching out his arm and running through the motions again. He mimicked each so Bruce could also see. “See what I mean?” Tony said to Bruce. “Now run those again with the new numbers. You can just stay here, let me know.”

Tony turned back to him and carefully touched a spot on his forearm between the nerve clusters. Just as he had told Tony, he could see him touching the area but had no sensation of touch. “Ok, now.” Tony opened his hand. As he mimicked, Jarvis spoke.

“Sir, a Mr. Parker is in the elevator. His appointment is in 2 minutes. Shall I send him to your office?”

“Shit. No, just send him here.” Tony said 

“Tony?” Bruce sounded apprehensive.

“It's fine. It's fine. He's just a kid.” Tony said, shifting his hand where it touched muscle.

“Tony, why is a kid coming to your shop?” Bruce asked, his tone becoming more exasperated by the second.

“You know that, that Spider thing? On YouTube?” Tony still hadn't looked up.

“The vigilante you were tracking a few weeks ago, yes, I remember.” Bruce said.

“Found him. Kid in Queens. Ok, now” Tony made a fist.

“Tony!” Bruce snapped. Tony finally looked up. “Why is he  _ here _ ?”

“Oh. I thought that part was obvious? Bring him in, help him out? That kind of thing. Kid’s special, it’ll be worth it.”

“Tony! If he's a kid, he can't be here! We can't help him,” Bruce said through clenched teeth.

“Why?” Tony genuinely looked confused.

“It's not safe, Tony! We can't encourage a child to get in harm's way!”

“His Aunt gave permission.” Tony said.

“To fight crime?” Bruce said, looking incredulous.

“No to--” Tony didn't finish his thoughts as the elevator doors opened. A teenager stepped out, eyes wide. He was thin and had shaggy brown hair. He looked like he would probably fill out really well at some point but he was currently all limbs.

“Hey, kid.” Tony called, holding up the hand not currently buried in the muscles in his arm. The kid, Peter, Tony had called him, turned from looking at the ceiling and machines, his eyes tracking across the room to locate Tony.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” Peter called, his eyes returning to roaming the room, as if desperate to take it all in at once. “I'm really sorry I'm late. I got on the elevator like you told me, but then a voice told me to get on a different elevator, and then he said I had to wait because there was some kind of argument, but then he sighed and let me through. Was that your AI? Does he have emotions programmed in; because if so, that is incredible. How did you write…” 

But Peter stopped mid sentence. He'd taken a few steps into the lab and his eyes had landed on Bruce who had moved to stand by Tony as they argued.

“You…. You're….” Peter stammered before opening and closing his mouth as if the words simply wouldn't escape his lips.

“Yeah, I'm the Hu--” Bruce started, but Peter seemed to find his voice again.

“Dr. Bruce Banner! Your picture is up all over my school! I've read all your papers! You're the reason I decided I wanted to double major! I did a research report on one of your papers last week.”

Bruce, who had looked frustrated, suddenly looked much closer to tears than anger. “Really? Which paper?” He asked.

“Oh. Uhh.” Peter looked down and mumbled something too fast for him to catch but Bruce seemed to understand.

“That was a hard one. What did you find?” He asked.

Peter blushed crimson straight up to his ears. “I. I found a way to modify the proteins that might actually negate the recorded responses.” Peter had stopped moving and stood a few feet away, head down, still blushing up a storm.

“Really?!” Bruce was smiling. “You should bring it by sometime and we can look over it. If it's viable, we will give it a try.”

“You mean it?” Peter’s head snapped up with enough force that it had to hurt. “I mean, I’m sure you're busy, I don't want to bother you.”

“I'm sure. It's always nice to work with someone who is interested in my work as a scientist, instead of…” Bruce trailed off.

“Your work as a giant green rage monster?” Tony filled in. “What happened to this being a bad idea?”

“Tony, be nice.” Steve said.

His voice pulled Peter's doe eyes away from Bruce and over to Steve. “Oh my God, you're Captain America.” 

“Hey, Pete, nice to meet you.” Steve said, what could only be described as a prize winning smile on his face.

“You, too.” Peter said, covering the last few steps to stand near them. Peter's eyes moved to him. He quickly turned his head away from Peter's eyes. In spite of Steve's insistence that he never look himself up, as soon as Tony had finished with his phone, he checked. He knew what the internet said about him. 

He could feel Peter's eyes on him in spite of his best efforts to disappear. “I know who you are.” He waited for Peter's judgement to drop. “Sergeant Barnes? Umm, James? Right?”

“Bucky.” He corrected reflexively.

“I saw on the news you were here getting help after Hydra brainwashed you. That's intense. Are you doing better?” Peter asked, his voice soft.

“I'm getting there, yeah.” He said his head spinning. 

“That's great. I'm sure it's a long. . . Oh my God, is your arm metal?!” His voice returned to its previous excitement. “Did Mr. Stark make that for you?”

“No. Hydra did. Tony is trying to understand how it works.” He said.

Peter moved around to better look at his arm. He flexed his arm, then opened and closed his fist so Peter could see the movement. 

“I know how it works.” Tony said, standing. “I am trying to figure out how it feels.” Tony waved his hand so the blue image of his arm appeared in the air behind Peter. Peter turned, looking closely at it. 

Peter licked his lips before speaking hesitantly, “It looks like they were able to use something to stimulate the axon growth along the synthetic nerve.”

Tony leaned back, looking between Peter and the floating arm. “What makes you say that?”

“I.” Peter seemed frozen.

“I don't disagree, kid. Just tell me how you got there.” Tony said, his voice softening.

Peter tentatively made a gesture so the arm got bigger, moving it to show where the nerves connected in his shoulder. “If you look right here, you can see what looks like a nanomatrix that they used as a starting point to attach the synthetic material. If you look close, you can see the axons on either side of the matrix are identical, so it looks like rather than grafting synthetic axons, they somehow stimulated his to grow down the strand.”

Tony was grinning ear to ear and Bruce looked shocked. “Told you he was special.”

“Peter, if you aren't busy, bring that paper here tomorrow, I'll let Jarvis know to expect you.” Bruce said.

“I normally patrol most of Sunday but I’ll be here.” He said with a smile.

Bruce's face faltered. “Patrol?”

“Well, yeah. Didn't Mr. Stark tell you? I'm Spider-Man.”

“Peter, that's very dangerous.” Bruce said softly. 

“No, it's ok. My powers help.”

“Powers?” He asked. 

“Yeah! I am super strong and can…well, is it ok if I show him Mr. Stark?” He asked, head turning to Tony.

“Bucky is a good guy, kid. You can show him.” He nodded and moved to the wall of the lab. Reaching out, he put a hand on the wall, pulled up and was climbing up the wall. He moved to the ceiling directly over them, shifted his hands and was then hanging by a single silken thread as he slid down, landing gently on his feet.

“What is this?” Bruce asked, jumping a bit to catch the thread.

“It's a substance I made. It mimics spider silk but it’s strong enough to hold about 720 kilograms.”

Bruce hesitated, “You made it out of your body?” He asked.

“What? No!” Peter laughed, a soft nervous sound. “No, I made it in chemistry class. I created the formula myself. It has an enzyme that naturally breaks it down and everything. It still needs work, but Mr. Stark said he'd help with that.”

Next to him, Tony was laughing hard enough that his eyes were watering. Bruce seemed to be ignoring him. “And how do you stick to the wall?”

“Um. I can enhance the flux of interatomic attractive forces on surfaces, increasing the coefficient of friction between that surface and my hands? That's the best I can figure.”

It must have made sense to Bruce who was nodding. Tony shifted, “Ok, kid, front and center.” Tony gestured to the ring in the floor. Peter hopped the workbench between him and the ring like it was a crack in the sidewalk before standing in the middle of the ring. “Bruce, scram. I'll send you the numbers later.” If Bruce was offended by the brisk dismissal, he hid it well, as he left the lab.

“J, go ahead.” Tony said, his eyes returning to the hand still in his arm. “Are you good to stay here awhile? I told the kid I'd help with a few things.”

He nodded. Tony carefully extracted his hand from the synthetic muscle and moved to stand just outside of the circle. The blue image of Peter had already appeared next to him, Peter was staring at it with wonder. He was glad to see he wasn't alone in being amazed at the picture. 

“So, the bite was here?” Tony pointed at a tiny dot on the image on Peter's left shoulder. 

“Yeah.” Peter said at the same time Steve asked, “Bite?”

“Yeah, I got bit by a spider at OSCORP during a field trip. I thought I was dying but then I started getting all these weird powers and stuff.”

“So, how did you and Tony meet?” Steve asked, moving to stand next to him.

“He emailed me, what, like 100 times? Not that I would have known it, but then  _ someone _ accessed the database and I got them all at once. Figured it was worth checking out. Went and met him and his Aunt a few days ago.”

Peter shrugged but was definitely grinning as Tony examined the image.

“And then for several days it was intense pain, then you came out the other side with the strength and wall climbing?” Tony asked.

“I mean, yeah, basically. I've been working on the strength but it's been hard to find things that are heavy enough to use for a work out. Then, the web formula I've been working on when the teacher isn't watching.”

“That stops now.” Tony said casually. “I want you doing that here, with Bruce or I. It's safer and we have more options.”

Peter looked like Christmas had come early, but Tony was still talking, so he stood with his mouth open slightly.

“I want to do some work on a proper suit for you. The one you have is a safety risk.”

“A suit?” Peter said, his voice coming out a squeaky whisper.

If Tony heard him, he didn't acknowledge him, he had pulled a blank sheet of paper over to him and started writing. He paused, suddenly. “The sticking to walls, can you do that through clothes?”

“What? Yeah, of course.” Peter seemed startled by the question. Poor kid looked like he was still in shock.

“Bruce said to come tomorrow?” Tony asked again, several moments later. 

“Yeah.” Peter said again. 

“Good. Come here after you talk to him. We’ll figure a few things out. Umm, email me your current formula, too.”

“I. Ok. Yes, definitely. Thank you, Mr. Stark!” Peter said, uncertainly backing towards the elevator.

“Oh, and kid?” Tony called.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” Peter practically bounced.

“No patrols till this suit is done. I'm serious, that one you have isn't safe.”

“Oh. Ok.” Peter said, the exuberance fading some. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Stark!” Peter called. Then “Bye, Captain America. Bye, Bucky!” And with that he was through the elevator and gone. 

“I'm going to go start lunch.” Steve said. “Tony, want me to bring you some?”

Tony didn't look up from the paper he was working on. “Yeah, sure.”

Steve glared at his back. “Tony, are you even listening.”

“Yes, that's fine.” Tony said.

Steve shook his head and left. 

After several minutes, Tony spoke again. “J? Music? Are you fucking sleeping or something?”

“No, Sir you--”

“Jarvis!” Tony shouted without looking up, “I haven't slept in days and I need to think. I don't need you to be a smart ass right now. Music. Now.” 

“As you wish, Sir.” How was it possible for a machine to sound so annoyed?

The music that he'd only ever heard tiny snips of filled the lab as Tony pulled more paper over and began to draw mechanics. He was close enough to see a small amount of the design. He reattached the plates in his arm then leaned back in the chair, watching Tony's back as he worked and listened to the music. It was loud enough that his whole body pulsed with the beat. He wasn't sure how Tony could focus with it on. It pushed all thought from his mind as he sat.

When the music dropped in volume suddenly, it was like the ground falling out beneath him. Tony jumped too, at the volume change, and spun to see Steve bringing in plates. Tony's eyes then landed on him.

“How long have you been in here?” He asked, then without waiting for an answer, “Jarvis, what have I said about people in here without me knowing?”

Jarvis actually sighed, “I tried to tell you earlier that he was still here but you didn't want to hear it.”

Tony fixed him with his eyes again. “You were here the whole time? Why?”

“I was watching you work and listening to the music.” He said honestly. “You did tell me to stay, earlier.”

“I. Why were you watching me?” He said, sounding surprisingly flustered.

“Buck has been a science nerd since birth. You should have seen him at the Stark Expo. He was practically drooling.” Steve said, putting a plate in front of Tony. “Eat.” 

“So, what, you just wanted to hang around and watch?” Tony asked, incredulous.

“Yeah?” He was starting to feel like he'd done something wrong. But Tony had asked him to stay around and he had been enjoying just relaxing.

“Huh.” Tony said then, “J, override visitor protocol for Bucky. He can come to the shop without permission.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

They ate in silence. Steve collected up the plates and left again. As soon as the elevator doors slid shut the music turned back up to its original volume. Now that Tony knew he was there, he moved close enough to see what Tony was working on.

Tony leaned back over his work but his eyes were cut to the side, watching him. Tony shifted a few times, still not speaking and not working, just watching him. Finally, Tony's eyes turned slowly back to his work. He had a few false starts before settling in and beginning to draw again. 

He let his eyes fall closed as the music pounded into his mind. He leaned back in his chair once more, only occasionally opening his eyes to check over the progress Tony made. More than once, he would open his eyes to catch Tony looking at him and not down at his work. He must really not be used to having people hang around and watch him. 

Howard hadn't cared, he remembered absently. Howard had welcomed the company, though he had worked in a crowded shop when they had met. Tony was down here alone, so that made sense. It was so easy to see whispers of Howard in Tony. It was easier still to see the differences. 

A rustle of paper during a quiet point in the current song made his eyes open lazily. The paper Tony had been working on had been pushed closer to him. It showed what must be the device Peter had used to shoot the thread earlier. The drawing was rough, obviously done in extreme haste, as if he couldn't get the ideas down fast enough. All around the drawing, in small fluid writing, were ideas and improvements. In some places the pencil Tony was using had never even left the paper, causing the words to run together as Tony had rushed to get them written down.

He looked back up to Tony. Any discomfort the man had held for him watching seemed to have vanished, as Tony feverishly sketched something onto his fresh paper. This one looked like a spider, but blown out into pieces, with writing and details jotted in.

Another paper, a new design. By the time Steve sent a message to his phone for dinner, most of the work bench was buried in paper. If Tony noticed him leaving, he didn't comment. 

The elevator ride and the apartment felt oppressively quiet. Steve was in the kitchen washing pans. His plate sat at the bar. He settled into the stool and started to eat. Steve remained silent until he was almost half done. “I don't know how I feel about him helping that Peter.” Steve said quietly.

“Why?” 

“It just. It doesn't seem safe.” Steve still hadn't turned around.

He shrugged, “I was getting into fights all the time, at his age.”

“Yeah, you were.” Steve said, “But this is different, Buck. He's fighting people with weapons. Real weapons, like guns. Plus we aren't the only superhumans out there. I just don't think Tony should encourage him.”

“Still, the kid is strong, and fast. Plus, he will do it even if Tony doesn't help.”

Steve spun to face him. “That's not the point!” Steve said, his voice tight.

He ducked his head, bracing his body for the impending blow. The quiet pounded in his ears as he waited for the strike to fall.

“No. God, Buck, you're okay.” Steve's voice was tight, hardly even a whisper in the quiet. Steve moved around the bar and rested a hand on his shoulder where metal met skin. “I'm sorry for startling you. Try to take a deep breath.”

He took a slow breath, letting the heat from Steve's hand settle into his arm. He focused on following instructions and breathing. Steve's thumb moved back and forth across the divide of metal to skin, rubbing softly as he pulled in air.

Once he could breathe again, he tried, without success, to finish his food. The silence still felt tight and made his skin itch. He grabbed the comms and turned them up as loud as possible but it didn't have the same mind clearing effect. Thoughts continued to drift unbidden into his mind. He went to bed early, hoping sleep would chase the thoughts away.

January 29

He was out of bed before he even opened his eyes, his body shaking. Someone had been in the room. Someone had been watching him, he was sure. His eyes scanned the pitch black, the implants in his eyes showing him enough to know he was, in fact, alone. Moving quickly, unable to shake the feeling something followed just over his shoulder, he slipped into the bathroom to shower.

It took almost the full shower to pull his breathing back under control. His heart was still hammering as he dried off. “Time?” He asked. It hurt to talk, his throat felt raw.

“It is currently 3:13 AM.” 

“Anyone awake?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Mr. Rogers, Dr. Banner, and Ms. Potts are currently sleeping. Mr. Stark is awake in the shop.”

He paused in wiping his face. “Tony is up already?” 

That tone of annoyance was back. “Mr. Stark has not yet seen fit to go to bed.”

Hadn't Tony said he was tired when he yelled at Jarvis earlier? He dressed and headed for the elevator.

The music still blared as he stepped off the elevator. Tony was exactly where he had been hours before, bent over the workbench.

“Tony!” He called over a quiet point in the music. He didn't want to startle the man. Tony made a vague waving gesture but didn't try to turn or see who was there. 

He moved to his chair from the day before. The mismatched pile of sketches had been organized into messy piles but otherwise not much had changed. Tony said something into to din of noise but he couldn't hear it. Apparently Jarvis could as the music dropped down to a quieter level.

“So. I have figured out several fixes to the storage capacity issues in the web launchers. If I modify the formula I should be able to put it into these reusable canisters that are easy to refill. I need to figure out a way to prevent them breaking if they get hit in combat, though. The kid was right to use metal, at least. Maybe vibranium.” Tony rummaged through a pile of papers to scrawl across one.

“Tony? Shouldn't you go to bed?” he said, uncertain after the outburst of information.

If Tony heard him, he ignored him. “The hard part will be integration of different web types. Still, I've put that aside for now. I got the suit finished.” He grabbed a sketch and passed it over. It was amazing to see the differences between the original rough sketch and the final drawing. The rough scratches had been replaced with smooth, even lines. “It will vacuform.” Tony said. “Since he is moving through the city on webs it can't have anything loose that could catch on whatever he is flying by.”

“This is amazing, Tony.” He said honestly. The change in Tony's body language was immediate. His brows unfurrowed, his shoulders relaxed, and a smile softed his face. 

“You don't think it's too much?” Tony asked.

“No. It's really good. What are these?” He asked pointing to a part of the suit.

“They open under the arms and act as a way to glide short distances.” Tony said his voice much calmer than before. He grabbed another drawing from the stack. “Here they are retracted.”

He took the offered picture and examined it. The suit was all tight streamlines in the second picture. Tony had added color on this picture, showing the suit to be mostly red and blue with a few small areas of black. “The design is awesome, too.” He said, passing both images back to him.

Tony continued to pass him pictures and then waited, a ball of nervous energy, for him to give his comments about it. Tony, willingly and excitedly, answered any questions he had.

When they finally ran out of pictures for him to look at, he stood. Tony looked up at him. His eyes looked so tired. “Come on, Tony.” He said, feeling a touch of surprise when Tony stood. “Bed.” He instructed, beginning to walk to the elevator. Tony followed without complaint. 

He didn't request his floor. Jarvis always knew. So it came as a bit of a surprise when the elevators opened into what must definitely be Tony's apartment. The general layout of rooms seemed the same as he and Steve's room below but that is where the similarities stopped. 

Where Steve had plush carpet, Tony's floor was smooth, cold tile. Metal accents dappled the wood fixtures in the space. The kitchen was smaller than Steve's to make space for a well stocked bar. Large couches dominated the center of the room which somehow managed to have more windows than their room below. Art, both hung and freestanding, filled empty spaces. 

The room lacked the controlled chaos of the shop below. It was clean to the point of almost looking uninhabited. A few files lay open on the bar and kitchen cabinets and a tablet rested on one of the couches. 

Tony had crossed the room. He followed uncertainly. Tony had neither asked he follow nor told him to leave. Tony opened a door and wandered in. He paused in the entry, not remotely interested in stepping into the man's bedroom. At least he seemed to be getting ready for bed. “Night, Tony.” He said.

“Night, Buck.” Tony mumbled through the shirt he was pulling over his head. He left before seeing the man shirtless. When the elevator doors opened on his apartment, Steve was already up at the coffee machine and looked shocked to see him.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, helping Tony.”

“In the lab?” 

“Yeah. With the Spiderman suit.” He started to walk to his room but paused. “Tony doesn't really sleep much does he?”

Steve took a slow breath. “Tony…has been through a lot. It's probably not my place to explain it all but he had a lot of hard years. From what Pepper has said, when he does sleep it's pretty rough and that makes him not want to sleep. Plus, he gets distracted in his work and doesn't remember to sleep. So, no. He doesn't sleep much.”

He nodded. “If she knows he forgets, why wouldn't she remind him?”

Steve shrugged. “Tony is a hard man to spend time with. I think she does her best but that isn't a good point to try to fight, you know?”

He couldn't really understand. Why wouldn't she want to help? He nodded anyway. 

“I'm going to lay down for awhile.” He said.

“Sleep well, Buck.” Steve said with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter adds the bedsharing tag and I love it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

February 3

He spent most of his time over the next several days down the in the shop with Tony. It took the other man a day or two to adjust to his presence but now he seemed to welcome the company. Some days they would spend all day with the music blaring, Tony working with an energy that was somehow both frenetic and methodical. Other times, Tony would bring the music down and talk about what he was working on. 

At first he'd tried to keep up and understand but he quickly realized Tony liked to work things out verbally. He would sit and simply let Tony's words wash over him. Tony would occasionally bring him drawings or pieces of what he was working on to show off. He particularly enjoyed these moments. Watching Tony bring the suit from paper to actual working pieces amazed him and Tony seemed to love watching his reactions.

Today had been different, Tony sitting at his computer, the mostly completed suit connected by a cord. He watched over Tony's shoulder as he typed, lines of nonsense filling the screen. The music was low and Tony was talking, but in the working out way, rather than anything he could understand.

Tony gestured to Jarvis and the music dropped. Tony leaned back, stretching his arms up over his head. Suddenly, Tony hissed, curling in on himself before groaning out “Fucking piece of shit.” Tony's hands were on his chest.

“Tony, you ok?” 

Tony jumped and spun to face him. Based on Tony's expression, he guessed the other man had forgotten he was there. Tony's hand remained on the light glowing from his chest.

“I. Yes.” Tony said, his fingers rubbing around the ring.

“Your chest hurt?”

Tony hesitated then nodded, his whole body tense.

He didn't push farther than that. The last thing he wanted was Tony to not allow him down anymore for asking the wrong question. “What are you doing?” He asked instead, gesturing to the suit.

“I'm coding the integrated AI interface…” Tony started, his voice sharp. Then, just as suddenly, he stopped, eyes searching his. When he started again his voice was back to a calm tone. “You know how Jarvis kind of runs the tower? All the background stuff?” 

He nodded. 

“I'm making a new kind of Jarvis to help run this suit. It will be awhile before the kid will have access to her, I have to train him on how to use the suit, but eventually she will assist him all the time.”

“How do you put her in the suit?” He asked, glancing back at the computer.

Tony relaxed, a smile replacing the thin line his mouth had been since he asked about Tony's chest. “Here, scoot closer, I'll show you.”

He followed instructions, scooting up so he could see better, shoulder to shoulder with Tony. The suit was inside out, black and gold and green inside.

“So, all the gold you see are insulated electrical connections that allow information to move across the suit. Right now, I’m making the brain of it.”

He nodded. 

“Right now, all the special features are blocked by the training wheels.”

“Training wheels?” 

Tony paused, “Were those not around yet? Umm.” He grabbed a tablet and pulled up an image of a child riding a bicycle. “Those. They act as stabilizers until the kid can ride it without help.” 

“So, basically they are blocked for his safety until he's ready?”

Tony nodded. “But, eventually, he will be able to ask for the suit to do certain things like extend the glides or plot courses. I also have a baby monitor in there to record things until he's ready to be without it.”

He pulled up a new image that looked like a pink and white radio. “Parents put it in the room with a baby and it transmits audio to them to make sure the baby isn't crying.”

He frowned. Why would a parent need to be far enough away from an infant for that to even be needed. A memory of running across the house to collect his baby sister from her crib flickered in his mind.

Pulling himself back to the present, he pointed at the screen, “So, you're writing it's brain?”

Tony leaned back to look at the monitor, too.

“Yeah. Basically. I have to finish though. Peter is coming by after school to check it out. If it goes well, he will go home with it tonight.” Tony stretched again, his movements seemed cautious but after a moment he relaxed, stretching fully. Tony leaned over the keyboard and the music came up again. 

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as the music thumped deep in his chest, driving away his mind’s ability to think. Some time later he felt a buzz in his pocket. Pulling his phone he checked it. Steve was letting him know lunch was ready. 

He stood, touched Tony's arm to let him know he was leaving, then headed for the elevator. Pup squirmed to meet him acting, as always, like he'd been gone for years. He scratched her ears before stepping into the apartment. It was always jarring to go from the loud music to the quiet. 

Steve flashed him an easy smile. “Hey, Buck.”

He nodded a greeting and sat at the bar in front of the plate waiting for him. Steve was already eating. 

“I’m going to be gone most of the rest of today, so you are on your own for dinner unless you want to eat really late.”

“Why?” He asked. It still felt strange and uncomfortable to ask but Steve and Tony had both shown infinite patience for him asking questions. Moreover, Steve seemed happy when he asked things. 

“It's a P.R. thing. Press conference and taking millions of pictures with people. It's exhausting.” Steve said with a sigh. 

An echo of the same conversation, held decades ago, whispered into his mind. He couldn't remember when or why this conversation had happened in the past, but like an actor reading the script of someone else's life, he knew his line. “The star spangled man with a plan.” 

Steve choked a bit on his drink before breaking into laughter. He felt his own laughter bubble up. If asking questions felt odd, laughing felt completely foreign but he didn't try to hold it back. 

After several moments, Steve pulled in a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm. “You're an ass.” Steve said, still smiling.

“Takes one to know one.” He replied, that line just as easy to remember.

Steve snorted. “Do you remember anything?” He asked softly.

“We were talking in a bar?” He supplied. 

Steve smiled. “Yeah, we were. It was after we found each other during the war.”

He nodded. That helped as his mind filled in more details slowly. He couldn't focus on it. Focusing seemed to drive the memory away, bit by bit. Instead, he sat still, waiting for more to come. 

Another piece filtered up that made even less sense. “You had to sing?”

Steve laughed again. “Yeah, I did. They had me going around the country as Captain America to sell bonds and boost morale.”

That finally supplied a picture. Steve in an outrageous outfit, smiling at him from a poster in the bar. Anger at his unit when they threw empty bottles and sneered at the picture. The feeling of a still flesh left hand connecting with one of their faces.

“I got into a fight with one of them for saying shit.”

Steve smirked. “Yeah, that sounds right. Always fighting” 

“Someone has to finish them.” He said. Another line, this with nothing tied to it.

Steve paused, locking eyes with him, searching.

“I don't remember anything.” He said before the other man could ask. The familiar look of disappoint flashed over Steve's face but he didn't say anything about it.

“So, I'll see you tonight?” Steve said as he finished eating and stood to go to his room.

He nodded, going back to his own food. 

Steve stepped out several minutes later, changed into the Captain America outfit, but it looked nothing like the picture. It looked like…

He was on the Helicarrier. Trapped. Smoke filled his lungs as he tried to reactivate his left arm. It was almost completely non-responsive. The vertigo of freefall made his stomach turn. He'd fallen before, he remembered, but couldn't remember when. It had been important. Maybe he could stop, just let himself fall forever until the last breath of air left his lungs for good. The weight was lifting off his chest. His eyes snapped open. The target was lifting the mass of debris off of him. He slid down, free. As he stood, he braced. The target had proven his equal in hand to hand combat. He needed to be ready. But the target wasn't fighting. Instead the target spoke words that made his head pound with pain and anxiety bloom in his chest. He hit the other man over and over but the words didn't stop. He said--

“Bucky.” A hand on his arm brought him back. Steve stood in front of him, looking worried. “Hey, you with me?”

He shook his head a few times and blinked. “I'm with you till the end of the line.” He said softly. “You said that to me on the Helicarrier.”

“Yeah.” Steve said with a sad smile. “I did.” Steve was starting to move again but he wasn't done talking.

“But I said it to you, too.” 

Steve stopped, turning to look back at him.

“After your Ma died, the funeral.” His mind supplied, though he couldn't really remember the day. “Outside her apartment.”

“Do you remember?” Steve asked.

“Just the words and when I said them.”

Steve nodded but the normal disappointment wasn't visible. “It's still true, Buck. I'm with you till the end of the line. I don't say it often, ‘cause I'm not sure you really want me saying it, but I'm proud of you. You've come a long way and you're doing great.”

“Thanks, Stevie.” He said before his mind was even aware he was speaking.

Steve smiled wider than ever. “I do have to go. I'll probably be dead on my feet when I get back, so don't wait up.”

Steve's words warmed his chest for several long moments after the man himself had left, though he couldn't really tell why it was a nice feeling.

He cleaned up lunch, storing away the leftovers. Grabbing a change of clothes, he headed for the gym for a quick workout, then showered and returned to the shop. 

Tony was across the room, at the fridge, a beer in hand. Tony waved him over and pulled another out of the fridge. “Hey, all done with the suit?”

“Just finished. Peter will be by soon to try it on and see if we need to modify anything.”

As if on cue, the elevator opened and the music muted. “Hey, Mr. Stark!” Peter called, then seeing him, “Hey, Bucky!”

Peter jogged the length of the lab and came to stop a few feet away as though not sure if he should finish his approach. “I uhh. I got your message about the suit?” Peter asked.

“Yeah. Just finished it. Come over here.” Tony said and Peter appeared to almost bounce with excitement. Tony lead him to the bench where he'd been working earlier in the day.

“Oh my g. . . I- Is this. Is this for me? Are you serious? Mr. Stark, this is incredible. How does it? How do I?” Peter opened and closed his mouth several times, apparently lost for words. 

Tony was beaming behind him. “So, it’d probably be best to just wear underwear underneath. Anything else is going to feel really uncomfortable since it's such a tight fit.” 

“Should I?” Peter asked but he was already pulling his shirt over his head. A purple bruise was visible along his back. 

“I thought I said no patrols till I finished the suit?” Tony said his voice tight and sharp.

“Wha? Oh, no. There's nothing. I mean. It's not from a patrol.” Peter said quickly. “There was a kid at school. It was nothing. It should be healed here in the next hour or two.”

“Why were you attacked at school to the point of getting a bruise? Did you tell a teacher at least?”

“What?” Peter laughed a soft nervous laugh. “It's ok, Mr. Stark. It's not a big deal.”

“I asked you a question.” Tony said.

Peter was quiet for a long time before speaking again, “I. He overhead me telling my friend I was coming to see you. He said I was lying. I stood up for myself, so he shoved me into a locker. It's not a big deal.”

Tony didn't seem to agree but was silent. Peter pulled his jeans off and Tony passed him the suit. He pulled it on. It hung off him, comically too large. Peter looked like he was about to ask when Tony said, “Touch the spider on the chest.”

Peter obeyed and the suit immediately contracted until it looked like the drawings Tony had shown him. “Oh my gosh, Mr. Stark, this is amazing!” Peter said, looking at his hands and arms before sticking out a leg to inspect it as well. Tony pointed him to a mirror that he was sure Tony had brought in specifically for Peter to see the suit. 

Peter shot across the room to look at himself. Tony followed a bit behind. Once Tony had caught up he passed Peter the mask. Peter pulled it over his head, then leaned in close to the mirror and watched as the eyes in the mask changed shape. Tony had told him it could do that in response to Peter's face inside the mask.

“So, what do you think, kid?” Tony asked. 

Instead of answering, Peter spun and threw his arms around Tony's middle, hugging him tight. 

Tony went rigid before lightly patting Peter's back. Peter seemed unconcerned about Tony's less than enthusiastic response. It was clearly much longer than Tony was comfortable before Peter finally let him go. 

“I can keep it?” He asked hopefully. 

“We need to do a few tests but if it all works okay, then yes, it's yours.” 

Peter  _ did _ jump with excitement, then. 

“Come on kid, let's go practice.” 

Tony lead them to the elevator and up to a floor he'd never seen. It was taller than the other rooms. It looked like, perhaps at one point, it had been two or three floors that had been turned into one. Natalia was there with Clint. She had her side arms out, shooting at targets. Clint had a bow and was shooting targets almost as quickly as Nat. 

Peter froze on the elevator before squeaking out “Black Widow? Hawkeye?” 

Tony whistled loudly and both stopped. “Mind if we take over for awhile? Need to run new kid’s suit through its paces.” 

Nat holstered both guns and Clint jerked his arm back, causing the bow to fold. He moved to collect his arrows while Nat walked towards them. In spite of the grace with which she moved, he could see her apprehension. 

Peter obviously couldn't. He pulled his mask off, causing his brown hair to fall wildly over his face, sticking up at odd angles. “It is  _ so _ awesome to meet you, Black Widow!” Peter said a smile on his face. 

“Oh, this is the ‘Spiderman’ you mentioned?” She asked, looking at him instead of Peter. When he nodded, she extended a hand which Peter shook excitedly. “Call me Nat.” She said.

He could still trace the tension in her body as Clint moved over. “Tony. Buck.” Clint greeted them easily. “And…” he trailed off, eyes on Peter.

“Peter.” Nat filled in. “Spiderman.”

Clint smiled a crooked smile. “Yeah? Someone showed me a video of you online a few days ago. Good to meet you. Clint.” He said, offering his hand too. 

Tony, who had been standing increasingly less still, spoke. “Ok, kid, let's get started. Just swing around a bit, get your bearings.”

“Oh. Ok. Sure!” Peter said, still looking at Nat and Clint with awe. He shifted the cuffs on his wrist a bit, pointed his hand at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The ‘web’, as Tony had called it, shot out and Peter jumped, letting himself swing on it. Another web and he gained height until he was swinging high in the room.

He moved over to the lockers on the side wall and sat out of the way, observing. Tony started the test targets in the room for Peter to practice on. After awhile Tony called his suit to him and flew around offering pointers. 

He had no idea how many hours they practiced but when Peter finally ran out of fluid and replacement fluid he landed, breathing heavy. When Peter pulled the mask off he was drenched in sweat.

“Good job, kid.” Tony said as he landed. “Let's get you showered off and we can work more on the fluid.”

Peter nodded and they returned to the shop. When Peter stepped out of the suit he could see the bruise was very nearly gone now. It must have happened  _ just _ before he came to the shop. 

Once Peter was clean and changed into normal clothes, he pulled out a journal and he and Tony started talking chemicals and formulas. He settled into his chair and just listened. When Peter's Aunt phoned him at 8 to come home, he took it as a good time to head back to the apartment himself.

Steve was still not back when he stepped out. He settled into the couch with his book. It was 10:43 when the elevator doors opened to reveal an exhausted looking Steve. He dropped his shield next to the door with a clang then began to pull off his shirt before their eyes met across the room. “Buck. Didn't figure you'd still be up.” He said pulling his shirt the rest of the way off.

He looked completely worn out, his body seeming to sag under its own weight. “Leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry.” He said, watching Steve closely, just in case he collapsed. Steve grabbed an apple from the kitchen and sat heavily on the couch. “How was your PR?” He asked. 

Steve took a bite out of the apple before answering. “Long.” He said then took another bite. “Long, but good. I never know how the press will warp what I've said till the next day, so I guess we will know tomorrow. Meeting everyone was good. Everyone is always so excited, it makes it easy to stay excited too, but when you're done, you realize just how exhausting it is to stay that high energy for so long.”

He nodded. He'd never dealt with anything similar but he could see how it would be draining. Steve ate the rest of his apple in silence, then stood. “See you in the morning, Buck.” Steve said, momentarily dropping a hand to his shoulder where skin and metal met. 

“Night.” He said, listening to the thud of Steve's boots down the hall. He stretched back out and finished his chapter before heading to bed himself.

February 7

He shot upright in bed and scrambled to touch his chest and stomach. Zola's men had opened his gut, examined his insides while he screamed for them to stop.  _ Just a nightmare _ . He reminded himself. A memory of something never to happen again. 

That didn't stop him from checking his chest in the bathroom mirror before starting the shower. The paper thin incision hadn't even left a scar. No physical evidence of the hours of pain and terror he'd suffered as they had examined all the parts of him he'd only read about in science class. The feeling of their hands moving around inside of him, moving and touching things that were never made to be held. He much preferred Tony's method of checking his organs.

Showered and shaved, he dressed and stepped into the hallway, pausing when he heard Bruce's voice. “Just let me know.” Bruce said followed by the sound of the elevator doors closing. Steve walked past his view and by the sound of it sat at the kitchen table. He stepped into the living room. 

“Hey, Buck. Can we talk?” Steve asked. He was indeed at the kitchen table. In front of him were three large capped syringes filled with a pale blue liquid. An image of the same syringe with clear liquid stabbing into his chest whispered into his mind but he pushed it away.

“Yeah.” He said, sitting across from Steve, eyes still on the syringes.

“So, Bruce finished the serum.” Steve said. 

He nodded.

There was a long pause before Steve asked, “Do you need me to put them somewhere else for now?” 

He pulled his eyes up to meet Steve's bright blue eyes. Steve was frowning slightly, concern clear in his expression. Before he could think about it, he quietly said, “Don't like those kind of syringes.” 

“Why this kind?” Steve asked, breaking their eye contact to look down. 

“When my heart would stop…” he frowned, trying to remember the exact wording. “Crash cart? With a syringe like that?”

Steve was quiet for a moment, then his eyes went wide. “Epinephrine. To restart. Fuck.” Steve ran a hand through this hair. “Want me to get Bruce to change the syringe size?”

He started to say no and stopped himself. Steve waited a moment then pulled out his cell and called Bruce. He could hear the other man answer in the quiet of the room.

“Hey, Bruce, can you bring down different syringes? They used this size to deliver epinephrine before.”

“Are you serious?” Bruce sounded angry. “That would mean they were giving it to him at almost three times toxic level! Yeah, I'll bring a few different sizes. Now, ok?” 

Steve nodded then agreed and disconnected the call. A minute or two later, Bruce appeared, a small bag in his hand. “Morning, Bucky.” Bruce said. “I brought several sizes for you to check it. The bigger, the better since you won't have to have so many.” He pulled out six different sizes of syringe and laid them out. Only the biggest didn't ignite horrible memories, so he passed the massive syringe to Bruce. “I thought about using this one first but didn't want to scare you too much. I'll be back in an hour or so.” Bruce collected everything and left.

Steve stared at the elevator doors for several moments after Bruce left before running a hand through his hair once more. “Fuck.” He said, more under his breath than directed at anyone before turning to look at him again. “Ok. So, I wanted to talk to you about the things I mentioned a few weeks ago. Bruce has made it so I can administer the serum instead of him needing to help. It will go in your left arm so no needles either. Are you ok with me doing it rather than Bruce?”

“Yes.” He said without hesitation. 

“Ok. Next. Bruce suggested we wait till bedtime, so hopefully you can sleep through some of the effects. Still good?”

He didn't want to wait. He wanted to get it over with but the chance to maybe sleep through some of it was worth the wait. He once again said yes.

Steve nodded. “He suggested you spending the night in bed with me rather than alone, both so I can watch you to make sure you don't bleed, and to help keep you warm because you will feel like you're freezing for a few hours. Is that something you are comfortable with?”

He frowned. Somewhere, deep in his shattered memory, he could remember spending the night with girls before, tiny, fragile bodies tucked into his. The memory of all the times Steve's hand had rested on him and the heat he seemed to push out, combined with the memory of the bone numbing feeling of cold had him nodding his agreement.

Steve nodded. “I'm off today, thinking of hitting the gym. You up for some sparring?”

He shook his head. “Tony took me somewhere last week. A target range in the tower?” 

“You want to go shoot?” Steve asked easily.

He let out the breath he had been holding and nodded. If Steve was concerned about the idea of giving him a gun, he hid it well as he stood and headed to his room. He returned a moment later with his shield “J, can you double check his clearance?”

“Mr. Barnes is allowed on that floor if he is accompanied by someone else with clearance to the floor.”

“Awesome. Let's go then.” Steve said moving to the, now open, elevator. The room was empty when they exited. Steve moved over to the lockers. It wasn't until it swung open that he noticed his name on the door. He reached out and touched where the letters were engraved into the metal. 

When Steve offered him a handgun, he recognized it immediately as the one he'd given Natalia months ago. He took it, the weight and shape feeling as familiar as his own hand. 

This gun was not the one he'd received from Hydra. As soon as he had the chance, he'd crushed that gun with his left hand and threw it into the ocean. This gun was one of the few things he'd stolen after his escape. A Browning Hi Power. He'd had one during the war, he remembered that clearly when he'd seen it and had been shocked to find them still in production. He'd never killed with it, never injured anyone with it. Unlike him, it was clean of the blood of innocent victims.

“Buck? You with me?” Steve's voice cut into his thoughts.

“Yeah, I'm good.” He said, realizing he'd just been standing there staring at the gun. “I didn't know she kept it.” 

“Of course she kept it. It was your gun.” Steve said with an easy smile. “All your stuff is in here.” He opened the locker a bit wider to reveal every weapon he'd surrendered to Natalia.

Steve moved away from the locker and called “J, start us with something easy.” Targets appeared around the room. “Don't hit me.” Steve said with a grin then, with perfect accuracy threw his shield. It hit four targets and ricocheted off two walls before returning so he could catch it. It was fascinating to watch. 

As Steve pulled back, preparing to throw again, he took aim and emptied 13 rounds into 13 targets. He was off aim by an inch or more, especially for non moving targets, but still, each bullet hit it's mark. He realized, after the fact, he hadn't modified his hold properly. The skin between his thumb and forefinger was bleeding slightly where the gun had pinched him.

His mind drifted to the first time he'd fired the same kind of gun so many decades before. Damn thing had pinched him then too. He brought his hand up to his mouth watching Steve throw the shield again. Steve must have seen him with the webbing of his hand in his mouth because he laughed, “Bite you again?” He called. Had Steve been there when it had pinched him in the past? He tried, without success, to remember the time.

“Feel ok?” Steve asked, moving to stand next to him. 

He wasn't sure how he'd feel. He hadn't fired a gun since the Helicarrier. Since he intended to kill. “I think so?” He said to Steve. It somehow felt both familiar and foreign. He grabbed the extra clips from his locker and filled the one he'd emptied.

Steve called for new targets, these moved, and stood back to let him take them all. He swapped to his left hand before taking aim at each target. Aim was better with his left hand. “Nice!” Steve said, moving to stand next to him. “I would have brought you up here sooner but I wasn't sure if you'd be ok, or even want to.”

He thought for a moment, trying to find the best way to word his reply. “I couldn't.” He stopped for a moment before trying again. “I don't think I could ever kill again.” It was a thought that had been in his mind for days but voicing it still made his skin crawl. Voicing something like that was a guaranteed way to get wiped but Steve didn't seem upset. He just nodded. “But this is ok.” He finished.

Steve smiled, “That's ok, Buck. You don't have to kill anymore. Once you’re cleared you can come on missions if you want but it's your choice. You don't  _ have  _ to anymore.”

He nodded. His chest felt tight but in a way that was different than normal. He pulled a few deep breaths into his lungs before speaking. “Thanks, Stevie.” Steve grinned.

They spent most of the rest of the day in the range, stopping only for lunch. When the elevator opened into their apartment that evening, the sun had already set beyond the windows. On the table, two massive syringes held the pale blue liquid he'd seen this morning. “Can you help in the kitchen?” Steve asked.

He nodded, glad for the distraction. Steve had started teaching him about cooking, rather than just giving him basic tasks to complete when they cooked. Steve insisted he was good at it but he was fairly sure it was only Steve's watchful eye that had prevented him burning anything.

When Steve took his plate to the couch, he was more than happy to follow and not eat at the table with the syringes sitting between them. After dinner, Steve turned on Planet Earth. He tried to focus but the memory of waking up bleeding and the fire and the numbness clawed at the back of his mind, keeping his heart racing. 

When Steve stood halfway into the second episode, he was on his feet instantly. Steve's eyes held his for several moments. “You won't be able to relax until we get this over with, will you?”

He hesitated but there was no anger in Steve's tone, so he answered honestly. “Not really, no.”

Steve nodded. “Go change for bed and then knock on my door. As soon as I'm done changing, I'll let you in.”

He nodded and followed the orders easily, retreating to his bedroom, changing into pajama pants and knocking on Steve's door. It took only a moment for him to answer. 

Steve's room was laid out in an almost perfect mirror copy to his but that's where the similarities stopped. Where his room was almost barren, Steve's was messy. Clothes had been tossed into a corner, getting close, but not always going into, a laundry basket. One of his dresser drawers hung open. Art, all obviously hand drawn by Steve, hung at random on the walls. His shield rested in the corner. Even with the only light in the room coming from a few lamps and the light from the cracked open bathroom door, it seemed to gleam. His bed was haphazardly made, as though he'd only just seen fit to toss blankets back over the bed.

Steve moved around where he had stopped. If he was at all concerned about the mess, he hid it well. Steve, like him, wore only pajama pants. His bare feet made almost no sound, as he moved over to where the syringes sat under the glow of a small lamp on the bedside table. He followed him over. “Sit on the bed.” Steve prompted. 

Steve offered him a screwdriver. He put his arm into maintenance but didn't touch the screwdriver. Steve's hand rested gently on his arm as he opened the correct plate and carefully pulled out the red line. “You ready, Buck?” He asked softly.

He nodded. Steve picked up the first of the two syringes. Steve's hand gently rotated his arm until he had a better angle, then connected the syringe. The first few seconds, as Steve depressed the plunger, he felt nothing then the serum entered into his shoulder. A white hot fire spread through his body, chasing the lines of his pulse as it burned through him. “One down.” Steve said softly. The burning didn't stop when he switched syringes. “Ok, Buck. We’re done. Lay down. Breathe.”

He pulled in gulp of air as he forced himself to move. The fire was ebbing away, leaving in its wake an overwhelming sense of nothing. He pulled the blankets over his body as Steve moved around to the other side of the bed. Then, all at once, the cold started, seeping through his skin and settling into his bones. His whole body started to shake and his teeth began to chatter.

He was falling forward, the world too bright and loud. He brought his left hand up to catch himself but it was gone. His face smashed into the floor, blood spurted from his nose and mouth. Someone was yelling, saying things he couldn't understand, and he was cold. Colder than he had ever been in his life. He curled into a ball on the floor, his muscles spasming as he shivered violently. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bandaged stump where his left arm should be. Someone was moving over him, speaking in English now. “Hello, Sergeant Barnes. My name is Zola. We are going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on.” His mouth opened in a crooked, dirty smile.

“Bucky!” He blinked, the memory ebbing away. A hand was resting on his shoulder, the warmth of it chasing away the cold. Steve's room. Steve's bed. He struggled to draw in breath as his body shivered. “Hey. You with me?” Steve asked.

He nodded. 

“Gonna help you get warm, ok?” Steve said quietly as the mattress shifted under his weight.

“Y-yeah.” He managed.

Steve's arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back across the bed until Steve's chest was pressed against his back. Warmth spread through him and the shivering slowed. Steve's hand rubbed up and down his right arm as he lay still. The rubbing drew attention to how numbed his senses felt and he caught Steve's hand to stop the movement. “Itches.” He said, which seemed to be enough.

He wasn't sure how long he lay pressed back against Steve before the shivering mostly subsided. He was distantly aware he was starting to drift to sleep. 

He sat straight up, ready to catch himself from the cryo tube. He was shaking. “Easy, Buck. Lay down. You're safe.” He heard Steve's voice and blinked. It sounded thick and mumbled. Had Steve been asleep, too? A hand closed on this shoulder and pulled back gently. He laid back, Steve pressed in close against his right side. “Bad dream?” Steve asked softly.

He didn't have an answer. He didn't remember dreaming. He just wanted the shivering to stop. Steve's hand pulled him closer, rolling him so they were chest to chest. Steve rested his chin on the crown of his head. Steve's hand rested on the middle of his back. Everywhere his body tucked against Steve's, warmth set into his skin, forcing away the cold. 

He rested his cheek on Steve's chest, enjoying the warmth. He pulled in a slow breath. As Steve's scent filled his lungs, the tiniest whispers of a memory echoed in his mind. Not even a memory, a familiarity. He latched onto it, trying to follow it back. The tiny old apartment with the broken furnace and windows that let snow inside in the winter. “We kept each other warm, before.” He said quietly against Steve's chest.

The other man chuckled. He could hear it rumbling through his chest before it left his lips. “Yeah, Buck. We did. What do you remember?” His voice rumbled in his chest even more than the laughter had.

“No images or anything.” He shifted closer before continuing. “Freezing apartment. Fucking furnace that blew cold air, not hot.”

“Yeah. That thing was shit.” Steve agreed. 

“Shoving towels around the windows to keep the snow out.”

Steve laughed. “Once a really strong gust of wind blew the towel out, it landed on you. The neighbors probably thought someone was getting murdered, the fuss you made.” Laughter shook Steve's shoulders

“Fuck you, Stevie. Oughta thrown it on ya. Neighbors really woulda wondered.”

The laugher died in Steve's throat. “Do. Do you remember when you're saying things like that?” Steve asked. 

“I said it before?” He asked, wanting to be sure he understood.

“Yeah.” Steve said.

He thought for a moment. “It feels familiar. But I don't remember.”

Steve nodded, Steve's chin bumping against the top of his head. “What kind of things do you remember?” Steve asked. Then hurriedly, “It's ok. You don't have to tell me.”

He thought. What all did he remember? When he wasn't thinking, it was easy enough, but now that he tried to focus on it, he couldn't seem to draw anything to verbalize. The only thought that seemed interested in presenting itself was that his right hand was cold where it sat on his hip. Carefully, he moved it to rest it on Steve's side. Steve unwrapped the arm he had around his waist and, gently grabbing his wrist, he moved the hand to his ribcage. When Steve wrapped the arm back around him, it sandwiched his cold hand between Steve's ribs and arm. The warmth was wonderful.

“I remember. I remember a lot of things with Zola. The early things before he destroyed my mind.”

“Your mind isn't destroyed, Buck.” Steve said softly.

“You gonna let me talk?” He said. He knew that was from before. Steve seemed to recognize it too and fell silent.

“I remember  _ everything _ from when I was Winter Soldier.” Continuing quickly before the memories could rush him. “I remember bits of things before the war. I had sisters, didn't I?” 

He could hear the smile in Steve's voice. “Yeah. Three.” Steve said. “They looked at you like you hung the moon.”

He frowned. “Where did they go? Something happened and they were gone.”

Steve was quiet long enough he was about to accept the other man wouldn't speak. “When your Ma died. They went to live with an uncle. You were older, so you stayed.”

“Your Ma died too. We talked after the funeral.”

“Yeah. You tried to get me to move in with you and your Ma and sisters but she was already getting sick. You showed up two days later, all your stuff in boxes, and moved in to Ma's apartment with me.”

“Big window over the sink?” He asked, drawing from the only memory he had that could be there.

“Yup.” Steve said. “Couldn't afford it long. Ended up getting our own place a few months after your Ma passed.”

“I remember some friends from the dock helping me move in. The big stuff. I can't remember you, though. Not from before the war.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “You will, Buck.”

He let his forehead rest on Steve's chest, breathing in his smell. Another thought whispered into his mind. “You were the cold one back then.”

Steve laughed again. “Yeah, Buck. Only fair we switch, at least this once.”

He heard his own unsteady laugh join Steve's. “I'm going to hold you this time, so you can't roll away. I think that's why you woke up before.”

He nodded and shifted a bit to get comfortable. Steve's warm hand pressed solidly into his back and he let his eyes drift closed again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Minor content warning**
> 
> This chapter definitely includes some internalized, period typical homophobia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

February 8

_ He was trapped _ . The knowledge snapped his eyes open. Sunlight filtered into the room. A soft breath ruffled his hair. He wasn't trapped so much as wrapped up. He remained still, taking stock of his limbs. His head was pillowed on his left arm. That was the only normal thing going on. His right arm was wrapped around Steve's middle. In turn, Steve's arm was wrapped around him. His legs and Steve's had gotten tangled together in the night. His face was still resting on Steve's chest. He didn't feel blood anywhere, this time, which was nothing if not a relief. 

He should get up. He wasn't allowed physical contact unless needed. He was awake now and while the potential for continued shivering was there, it wasn’t as much of a threat now. He planned to move, figured out exactly the best way to move but then, when he actually gave the instruction for his body to move, he found he didn't  _ want _ to.

Finally, he decided it would be disrespectful to wake Steve up, since he'd been up half the night already. He settled back and listened to the slow rhythm of Steve's breath. He drew in long deep breaths, letting Steve's smell bring back the shadowed ghosts of memories he couldn't seem to see. 

His eyes opened and Zola peered down at him. “Lost in your memories?” He asked, that dirty smile playing on his face. “Poor Sargent. Don't worry, soon we will take those away from you and you won't ever be burdened by them again.” He turned to address someone in Russian. He had started to pick up words. A few techs seemed to be trying to teach it to him. Like he would ever learn fucking Russian. He stretched against his bonds. As usual, the only thing that could move was the stump of his left arm. It was useless enough that they never bothered to bind it down.

Zola turned back to him. A long black baton was in his hand. The end was tipped with two blunt, metal nibs. Zola spoke to one of the scientists then pressed the nubs against his ribs. A shock spread over him and the metal table he lay against. He locked his jaw so that the only sounds they got from him was a soft whine as his lungs struggled to draw breath through the pain. Zola said something and changed something on the baton. This time, it popped loudly before even touching his skin. He braced for the contact.

“Buck. Wake up.” He blinked. The dark lab melted away as Steve's sunlit bedroom came into focus. He pressed his forehead back into Steve's chest and pulled a few gulps of air. Steve's hand was running up and down his spine. He was shivering but it had nothing to do with feeling cold. “You with me?” Steve asked, the heat of his breath warming the edge of his ear. 

He nodded, not ready to talk yet.

Steve didn't press more than that. Steve dropped his head back on the pillow and continued to rub gently at his back. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing until his heart slowed and the nightmare faded. When he pushed back, Steve released him easily. As soon as he was away from the warmth, the cold set back into his bones, and the shivering resumed, though much less violent than yesterday.

“Let's get you into a warm bath or shower and I'll make coffee. If we need to, we can bundle you up on the couch and I can help keep you warm. Bruce said it might take longer than overnight. I was just hoping you wouldn't have to deal with it more than that. You can use my bathroom if you want. Or yours is fine.”

He nodded. The shivering made walking a bit unsteady but he made it into the bathroom without difficulty. Steve's bathroom was also laid out just like his and was also messier than his. He debated only a moment before running a bath. He held his hands under the water as the tub filled. Steve knocked on the door. “Ok to come in?” He called.

“Yeah.” Steve opened the door and passed off a towel and a change of clothes. “Thanks.” He said as Steve backed out of the room. He stripped and settled into the tub. The warm water heated his skin and the shivering slowed to a stop. He let his head fall back against the back of the tub. His body hurt. He was suddenly aware just how much his muscles ached. His ribs and left shoulder throbbed in time with the pulse of his heart. He rolled his left arm to try to relax the muscle but it felt like a knife stabbing his shoulder.

A knock on the door made him lift his head as Steve called, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” He called back, letting his head drop back on the edge of the tub. Steve paused in the doorway before crossing to lean against the wall. “Figured you would be dressed if you were telling me to come on.” Steve said, his voice teasing.

He shrugged.

“It looks like the water is helping, though.”

“Gonna be fucking hell when I have to get out.” He said without opening his eyes.

Steve chuckled. “Yeah. There is a reason I didn't suggest it last night. I have a pile of blankets and a mug of coffee waiting out in the living room, so hopefully it won't be terrible.”

He nodded and kicked the drain plug, before standing and grabbing the towel. As soon as he was out of the water, the shivering picked back up. He dried as quickly as he could but the temperature drop had set the shivering even worse than when he'd first gotten out of bed. 

Steve had brought him a thick, soft, long sleeved shirt and heavy pajama pants. He dressed quickly, only making note once he'd changed that the clothes were not ones Steve had bought him. They smelled like Steve. They must be his clothes. Steve stood. “Come on, Pal. Let's see if we can't get you warm.”

He tried to follow behind Steve but the shivering made his steps unsteady. As he tried to step around the half open bathroom door, he overbalanced and started to fall. Steve's arm caught him before he could. Once he was balanced, Steve held him, letting him use Steve as a brace to keep from falling. 

In the living room, Steve sat him on the couch that Steve himself normally occupied before wrapping him in a massive, thick blanket and passing him a cup of steaming coffee in a mug with a lid and straw. He would have made a comment but his hands were shaking bad enough it was immediately apparent why Steve had made the change.

Steve sat next to him, turned on the TV, and switched it to Planet Earth. He took a few drinks of the coffee, which burned the whole way down but didn't seem to make any difference with the chill still residing in his bones.

He tried to focus on the show but the shivering seemed to be getting worse, not better. “Buck? Can I? Can I help?” Steve asked uncertainly. 

He nodded. Anything Steve could do to make the shivering stop was worth it. The muscle spasms were strong enough that it was starting to make his body and head ache. Steve gently pulled the covers from around his legs and scooted closer. Steve pulled the covers over himself and slid an arm behind him on the couch. It took only moments for Steve's body heat to begin to overtake the cold in his skin.

He closed his eyes, letting his head drop back for a moment. It bumped lightly into Steve's arm and he left it there. He wanted the shivering to end and stay gone. His head was pounding in time with his pulse. Steve's body pumped out heat like a radiator and soon he was at least, for the moment, warm enough to fall still.

He didn't bother lifting his head. He could listen to the show if he wanted. Instead, he found himself focusing on the sound of Steve's breathing, slow and even. It felt strange to be this close. Still, they had been closer last night. It wasn't a negative feeling. It should be, he thought. He wasn't a fag. He knew that. But this wasn't being queer. This was just getting warm, Steve helping him not feel miserable. Even in Hydra he'd seen some soldiers sleep together in the cold Russian nights. 

His head continued to pound angrily. He started to dread each thump of his heart, knowing it would bring a wave of pain along with it. “Steve? Is there any more of that stuff for pain?” He asked. His voice made his head pound more.

“Yeah, Buck, of course.” Steve stood, careful to pull the blankets back around him before heading to the kitchen. “Remind me when you're feeling better and I'll show you how to mix it so you don't have to ask for it, ok?” 

He didn't reply, trying to remain perfectly still to lessen his head’s pounding. Steve handed him a glass just as the first whispers of shivering started again in his chest. Steve set a large mug of water on the coffee table before sliding back under the blankets next to him. He swallowed the glass of medicine in one fast gulp before pulling his hands back into the blanket. He dropped his head back to Steve's arm and kept his eyes closed. 

Outside a cloud shifted causing sunlight to stream into the room. Even behind his eyelids it felt too bright. “Why don't you have something to cover those windows?” He said, the frustration at the light over weighing the need to stay silent.

He felt Steve shift as he looked towards the windows. “Honestly, I never really lived here until now. After the attack on New York, Tony set it up for me and I had some of my stuff here but I lived by myself in Brooklyn. After the Helicarrier, I was taking out Hydra and looking for you. We will get some curtains. Some that block light. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” He said.

“If that doesn't start working soon, let me know and I’ll get you a second dose. It's not ideal to take them back to back but Bruce said it might be needed. Your body is having to readjust to feeling localized pain.”

“Second dose. Please?”

Steve stood immediately. The shift in the couch sent stars alight behind his eyes and a groan slipped unbidden out of his throat. Steve returned and pressed the cup into his waiting hand before returning to his spot.

“What hurts?” Steve asked. 

“Head. Light and movement and sound.”

Steve made a soft hum in his throat. “Sounds like you have a migraine, pal. If you’re ok with me touching your face, I may be able to help but otherwise the meds should kick in soon.”

It wasn't even a question. Everything hurt to the point it was overwhelming. “Do it, if you think it will help.”

“Turn to face me as much as you can while staying under the blankets.” He could feel Steve moving too.

“Good. If you can keep your eyes closed. If not opening them is fine.”

He stayed still as possible, bracing for whatever Steve was going to do. Even though he'd been prepared, the touch of Steve's thumbs on either side of the bridge of his nose made him jump. “Easy. Just me.” Steve's voice was almost a whisper as he pressed in firmly on the bridge of his nose. He held the pressure there for several long moments before moving to under each eyebrow. Steve kept his thumbs in contact with his face so he should keep track of the movement. He rubbed on the ridge of the bone under his eye. 

“You're doing really good, Buck. I used to get migraines when I was a kid. This was about the only thing that ever helped.” 

Steve's thumbs were moving again, now to his temples. Steve's palms rested on his head as he rubbed slow, firm circles into his temples. He wasn't sure if it was the medicine or Steve's hands, but the pain was lessening. 

“Feeling any better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He could hear the smile in Steve's voice. “Lean your head forward just a little.”

He obeyed. Steve's hands threaded into his hair and began to massage his scalp. It felt amazing. He didn't want Steve to stop. His eyes snapped open and his left arm pushed Steve back, hard. Steve held up both hands, palms visible in surrender. 

_ The asset is forbidden to experience any positive contact. _ The line from his new handler speech echoed in his mind. He shook his head and stood. He wasn't the asset. He was Bucky. He was distantly aware of the sound of his arm recalibrating as his hands opened and closed. White, hot rage flooded his chest. He was on his feet, moving. He drew back and punched into a wall. Whatever the wall was made of didn't break, though it did make a soft crunch under the blow.

The shivering was starting. It only served to make him angrier. Hydra did this. Hydra fucked his mind and his body. They had taken him apart and put him back together a broken machine. His arm recalibrated and he hit the wall again and again, aware of the bloom of pain in his back and shoulder.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder. Steve. He'd forgotten he was in the room. “Come sit down, Buck.” Steve was quiet. 

He came without complaint, allowing himself to be guided to the couch, the blankets laid back over him and Steve. The anger was fading, leaving exhaustion in its wake. His mind felt full of fog. He let his head fall back against Steve's arm as sleep swallowed him.

Before his eyes opened, he was aware of the beat of a heart other than his own. He took a breath and the warm smell he knew to be Steve filled his nose. He remembered the rage and frustration and Steve gently guiding him back to the couch. 

He had shifted in his sleep, his cheek pressed on Steve's chest. Steve's arm was over his shoulder, his hand tracing lazy patterns on his back. 

Zola's voice was screaming in his mind to break contact. The asset couldn't feel enjoyment from contact. But that wasn't true either, was it? His mind drifted back to the beautiful girls pressed into him behind the dance hall. He remembered the first time one had dropped to her knees, fingers fumbling at his belt. The obscene contrast of her pristine flowing dress on the dirty ground. He hadn't asked her to but he sure hadn't stopped her. Then later, different dates, different girls in his bed at night. He'd felt pleasure before.

Zola's words were loud enough in his ears, he would not have been shocked to open his eyes and find the man nose to nose with him. He pushed the voice out of his mind. 

Another memory filled his head. A new memory. Lunch break at the docks. He found Dave, hanging out in his usual spot, and sat with him. “Where's Jim been?” He asked. 

Dave's eyes glittered conspiratorially. He'd come to Dave for a reason. The man always knew more than he ought. “You didn't hear?” Dave spoke, barely above a whisper. 

He shook his head no. “Jim's been committed. He was a fag. Sister caught him fuckin a fairy. Doctors gonna try'n fix his brain or somethin.”

He thought back. “Always seemed so normal. Who woulda guessed? Ain't he got a wife an’ a kid?”

Dave shrugged. “Movin’ away‘s what I heard.” 

He blinked. His vision was half obscured by Steve's chest. He pushed himself up. Steve let him move easily. “Hey, Buck. You ok?”

“Yeah. M’ fine.” His throat felt sore. 

“How's your headache?” Steve asked.

He'd forgotten about his headache. His whole body felt stiff but otherwise he was fine. “Gone. Thank you.” 

Steve smiled. “Of course, Buck. Anything else I can do, just let me know. Bruce wanted to come check on you sometime today or tomorrow, if you're up to it.”

“Let's get it over with.” He grumbled.

“J?” Steve said.

“Dr. Banner will arrive momentarily.” Jarvis answered.

What would Bruce think of he and Steve tucked under the blanket together? He'd been the one to suggest them sleeping in Steve's bed. He decided it should be ok. Bruce knew it was only for warmth. If he acted strange, he could tell him that's all it was.

The elevator opened and Bruce stepped out. “Hey, guys.” He said.

He nodded by way of greeting. 

“How have you been, Bucky?” Bruce asked, coming to sit across from him on the other couch. If he thought anything strange of he and Steve's position, it didn't show on his face and he didn't comment.

“Cold.” He said simply. 

“Yeah, we expected that. Did sleeping with Steve let you rest?” 

So Bruce definitely knew, then. He nodded. 

“The shivering has been less intense this morning but he still needs the help. He had a pretty bad migraine this morning, so I gave him two doses of the painkiller and that seemed to fix it.”

Bruce nodded. “The shivering should continue to lessen over the course of the day.” Turning to him, “If it's still happening by bed, I'm sure Steve wouldn't mind you sleeping with him another night. Your body just has to adjust to the new normalized temperature. Are you ok for me to take some blood samples?”

He nodded.

“I'll get the screwdriver.” Steve stood and headed for the bedroom. 

“How are your pain levels?” Bruce asked as they waited.

“My shoulder and back hurt. My ribs.”

Bruce nodded. “You're feeling the effects of the weight of that arm. Your body will adjust again, over time. Adrenaline is a powerful pain suppressant. Without it flooding your system, you're feeling things correctly now. It's definitely both a positive and a negative.”

He was starting to shiver again. It was not as severe, like Steve had said. It was also no longer constant. Instead, it seemed to come in waves. Steve returned and sat next to his left arm. His warm fingers wrapped around his left arm, gently turning it as he loosen each screw and carefully removed the plate. Steve took the vials from Bruce and filled them. 

He was suddenly very relieved he'd taught Steve how to open his arm. The way his hands shook, he'd be unable to complete this without his help. Once Steve was done, he reattached the plates, moved to his right side and back under the blankets.

“The good news is, you're well on your way to recovery. The bad news is, you aren't there yet. Hang in there, Bucky. Steve, if anything changes let me know, ok? Otherwise, help keep him warm.”

Steve nodded and Bruce left. 

“Hey.” Steve said after a while. “You want to talk about earlier? When you were attacking the wall?”

Not really but Steve probably deserved something. “Just mad at Hydra.” He offered.

Steve nodded. Apparently that was enough. “I'm going to order in tonight ‘cause I don't think either of us is cooking. Have I made Chinese before?”

He shook his head. Steve grabbed his phone and pulled up a website. It had pictures of all kinds of food he'd never seen before. In the end, Steve ended up ordering things he might like since he had no frame of reference for what Chinese he would like. 

“So, now?” He asked uncertainly.

“Oh! Tony has it set up with different companies. The money is charged to the tower's account. When the delivery driver gets here, he puts it in the elevator and gets a tip and all that. Jarvis gets it to the right floor from there.”

He nodded. It must be like the clothes, then. Pick it out online and someone would see it and deliver it. He couldn't say he understood it but he was glad for the option to not move. When the elevator opened, he jumped but Steve stood and collected the bags of food and moved it to the coffee table.

It smelled interesting. His stomach growled it's approval. Steve began opening boxes to show the different foods he'd picked. He gave the names of each but he couldn't even begin to keep up with all of them.

By the time he was full, he'd had at least a few bites of everything and could definitely say he liked Chinese food. 

When Steve put the food up, he was able to stay warm enough not to shiver. If Steve noticed, he didn't comment when he sat down next to him and pulled the blankets back around them. He turned Planet Earth back on and they settled in to watch it.

That night, he returned to his bedroom to sleep. It felt strange to lie alone after more than a day curled up against Steve. He still felt a bit chilled without the blankets but with them he felt warm enough The aches in his muscles had persisted through the day. He drifted off to sleep, wondering how long it would be until his body readjusted to them hurting.

His eyes snapped open as a soft moan left his mouth. He struggled to keep hold of the dream he had been having, all skin and heat and sound, but it slipped away like smoke. He shifted, feeling uncomfortable.

He pulled back the covers to see his cock straining hard against the cloth of his pajama pants. Again, he tried to reach back to the dream but it was gone. When was the last time he'd been hard? Before Hydra. At first the pain and terror had kept any sex drive away, then, after two or three injections the want had left him altogether. Carefully, he eased his pants off, pulling them out from under the covers. His cock thumped against his belly as he moved.

He slipped his right hand down and wrapped it around himself, giving himself a few uncertain tugs. Another soft moan left his lips. Still, the position felt strange, foreign.  _ Before Hydra, I was left handed. _ The memory written in his notebook whispered back through his mind. Hesitantly, he brought his left hand down instead. The metal of his hand felt strange against his cock but the position felt familiar. The metal, which tended to cool in the night, warmed quickly from the heat of his cock as he held himself.

He pulled a few test strokes with his left hand. His hips stuttered up into his touch. He carefully adjusted the pressure in his left hand until his head fell back with pleasure as he continued with long, slow strokes. The plates in his arms recalibrated and locked in. He closed his eyes, letting the memories of the girls before the war, soft and beautiful and sweet, wash over him. He only remembered pieces, snips of long forgotten memories.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head. Even in the dark room, he could easily see his cock, red and heavy, and the glint of metal wrapped around it. It was a strange, unnatural sight, but watching drove his arousal higher.

Another memory whispered in the back of his mind. Someone bent over a table, much more recent than the others. He latched onto it. They had to be quick. People would be coming back to the room soon. It had been a long time, too long. Fingers slicked, prep done too fast, and he was pressed in. It was tight, almost too tight, the sensation overwhelming. In spite of the need to be quick, he let himself enjoy this. Easing in slowly, reveling in every perfect inch until he was sat in fully. He reached forward, pulling and stroking at the point where his cock set in.

The person below him moaned, soft and perfect. Begged him to go hard, grinding back against his cock. He complied willingly, grabbing the hips in from of him he set a punishing pace. Their moans mingled together in the quiet room. “So fuckin’ tight.” He moaned through clenched teeth, breath coming in tight puffs. “So good. Missed this. Missed this so much. Missed you. Was so scared wouldn't see you again.”

“I know, Buck. Me too.”

Distantly he was aware of his hand speeding to keep time with the memory, his hips rising off the bed to meet his strokes. Soft sounds rising in his throat.

His hand stretched forward, grabbing the shoulder of the person below him, pulling them up off the table. The change in angle seemed to do it. “Fuck. Buck. So close. So fuckin close. Please.” A litany of babble spilled forth. He quickened his thrusts, fast and deep, so he could peg the same spot again and again. A moan that could have easily been a sob was his reward. His mouth came forward, teeth biting hard enough to bruise.

“Come for me. Let me feel you.” He whispered, driving in harder

That was all it took. It was like a vice around his cock. He followed right over the edge. “Fuck, Stevie.” He whispered as he came. 

He was so lost in the memory, he was startled as his release pulled him back to the present. Spurt after spurt painted his chest and stomach. When he finally stilled, his whole body shook, not with cold but with the overwhelming feeling of release. As the last whispers of pleasure eased from his body, his heart seemed to still.  _ Stevie _ ?

He struggled to pull back the memory, to see who it had been beneath him, but just like the dream had it seemed to hover just out of reach. He wasn't a fag. He still smelled like Steve from spending all day with him. That was why he'd said Steve's name and not the dame’s he'd been with. He stood, heading to the bathroom to clean off.

By the time he was clean, he felt completely wrung out, like every bit of tension had been pulled from his body as he came. He returned to bed, pulling the covers back over him. It was less than a minute before he was asleep once again.

February 23

He stepped off the elevator behind Steve. This was his first time in the garage. The familiar smell of machines and oil filled his nose. More than a dozen cars of various colors and models lined the walls. The ones straight across from the elevator, he guessed, were Tony's, bright and flashy. Steve turned and guided him to the right. 

They had been talking about coming down to the garage since Christmas, to see the Jeep that Tony had gotten him, but one thing or another had prevented it. Now they were leaving the tower for the first time since his arrival so many months before.

It had started with a conversation a few days ago. He and Steve had been making breakfast, when Steve had offered him part of the banana he was chopping for a smoothie. He'd taken it without a second thought but halfway through chewing had stopped. “What the fuck is wrong with this banana?”

Steve had frozen for a moment, confusion on his face only to break into laughter. When he'd finally calmed down, he said, “I'm sorry, Buck. I didn't mean to laugh, I just forget that just because you were on missions doesn't mean you know everything about the world now. So, bananas like what we had as kids all died out ‘cause of a fungus or something. They taste totally different now because it's a different kind that was grown afterwards.” 

Steve had continued to tell him about the changes in food since their childhood through breakfast, until he was completely confused and overwhelmed. Finally, Steve promised him they would visit a grocery store so he could understand how different things were now.

Steve paused in front of a pale blue-green car. “This one is mine, the one Tony bought me.” He said. “It's a 1967 Camaro RS.” It was a beautiful car, sleek and smooth. He could see Steve driving it. Steve moved to the side of the car and pointed in the window. On the steering wheel, a circular emblem of his shield had been added. He laughed. It was such a Tony like addition. 

He ran his right hand over the cool metal. He remembered working in the shop on the days he hadn't worked at the docks. He'd enjoyed those times. Now cars looked so different, he doubted he'd be any good at fixing them. 

“And this”, Steve walked around the front to the next car over, “Is yours.”

He turned to look. Where Steve's car looked built for speed and maneuverability, the car Steve now stood next to looked like it was built to survive a war. He recognized part of the shape as the old military Jeeps. It sat low to the ground, wheels wide spread, and was the same green color he remembered. That was where the similarities ended. It was fully enclosed with doors and windows and a roof. The windows were black, he couldn't see inside. He reached into his pocket for the key and unlocked the door. The metal and glass on the doors were thick.

“It's all bullet proof.” Steve said, confirming his suspicion. Inside, the console was sleek black. The seats were black leather. He ran a hand over it as Steve climbed in the passenger’s side. He climbed in too, turning the engine over. The Jeep purred to life.

“How much driving did you do with Hydra?” Steve asked. 

“A fair bit. Why?”

“Want to drive us?”

He thought for a moment before closing his door. From inside, he could see out clear as day. He glanced at the dials, noticing the odometer. “I'm the first one to drive this?” He asked. The meter read zero.

“Yeah. Tony built it. He built all the cars. Gets the parts shipped in. He gets it built how he wants, integrates Jarvis, that kind of thing.”

“Jarvis?” 

“At your service, Sir.” Jarvis spoke from the speakers. That was strange.

Out of habit, he grabbed the buckle over his shoulder and pulled it across his chest. He heard Steve do the same. “Drive to the spot that says exit. Keep pulling forward till the light goes green.” 

He followed Steve's instruction, pulling between the two railings and stopping at the green light. A bell was the only warning he got before the floor beneath the car rumbled down.

“Car elevator.” Steve explained as he stared. The room disappeared and the only view before them was the concrete as they descended. “Tony keeps them off the ground floor, says it's safer.”

Suddenly, light appeared as the elevator rumbled to a stop and the wall in front opened. When the green light went off, he pulled forward. Steve gave him directions as he drove. It felt both familiar and completely foreign but he loved every second. He was distantly aware that he was smiling as he drove. People at lights stared but with the blackout windows, he knew they couldn't see in.

It was strange to see things that looked so familiar, yet so different. Streets he remembered as a child now lined with massive buildings. The drive was short, much shorter than he would have liked. The parking lot where Steve directed him had construction barriers blocking the lot. He frowned but followed Steve's instruction to pull up to the barrier. A man, who had been sitting nearby, hopped up and moved the barrier to let them in, then closed it behind.

“Why is the parking blocked off?” He asked, parking in one of the close spots. 

“Told you I would make it safe.” Steve said. “Paid them to close down for a few hours. It will just be us.”

He had wondered how Steve expected to make things safe. Apparently, when you were famous, places were ok with doing whatever you needed without asking a lot of questions.

He turned off the car, eyes scanning the empty lot and surrounding buildings. Steve would be smart enough not to let word reach the world that it was them closing down the building but he still felt tense stepping out of the protection of the bullet proof car, with so many roofs out of his sight line. 

Steve had no such fears. He climbed easily out of the car and moved around to the driver's side of the car to stand by his door. He opened the door and stepped out with Steve. Steve had a baseball cap and glasses on. It was ridiculous to think that people wouldn't recognize him that way. He still looked like Steve.

He took a deep breath, eyes scanning the rooftops. “It's ok, Buck. Perimeter's secure and being monitored. We are safe. Let's get inside, ok?” Steve's voice was soft and gentle. 

“Monitored?” He asked, as he moved towards the building.

“Yeah.” Steve's eyes scanned for a moment. “See that thing by the corner of the building? Looks like a black baseball?”

He looked where Steve indicated. He hadn't seen it when he'd first looked but he definitely saw it now. It hovered a few inches off the front corner of the building.

“Tony's drones. They have been monitoring the area for a day or two now. They are specially designed to detect concealed weapons and facial scanning that is connected to the FBI and Police databases.”

“Do they  _ know  _ Tony has access?” He asked, as they paused at the door. A man was unlocking them from the inside.

“They weren't pleased, at first. Then Tony, in less than 24 hours, found and turned over the top three people in the FBI's most wanted list and suddenly it wasn't a big deal anymore.”

He laughed. The doors slid open and they stepped inside. Steve's whole demeanor changed. He stood a bit straighter and a prize winning smile broke his face. “Hey, Brian right?” He said, holding out his hand. The man who was locking the door looked like he might faint. 

“Y..y..yeah.” he said, taking the offered hand. The man was shorter than Steve by at least a head, hair thinning and beginning to show signs of turning grey. He stared at Steve's face like Steve had hung the moon. 

“Thanks again for letting us come.” Steve said shaking the man's hand and smiling even wider.

“Of course.” He said. “I..I was glad to help.” The man's eyes finally left Steve to look at him. He tried not to bristle under the man's scrutiny. “Sergeant Barnes.” He looked up, the man was saluting him. “Ex U.S. Army. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir.” He dropped the salute. “My grandfather, he was a POW in World War II. Hearing the stories of what he went through. I can't even imagine. If you need any help at all, please don't hesitate to ask.” The man turned and headed for an office door. 

Steve relaxed, he could feel it next to him without looking. He couldn't be himself around random people. It was strange to think about but it made sense. He was Captain America first. “Ready to look around?” Steve asked. He watched the man go through the office door and close it before nodding. 

Steve grabbed a cart and guided him forward. The first large section the entered was nothing but fruit and vegetables of every size, shape, and color. Many of them were things he'd never seen before. “Changes in shipping and global trade means you can pretty much get produce no matter what time of year.” Steve said as he moved through the rows and rows of food. 

“Can I,” he started then stopped, not exactly sure what he was asking.

“Of course, Buck. Get as much as you want of anything you want, ok?”

He nodded but the offer felt overwhelming. Money had been tight as a child and even tighter as an adult. The idea he could just get anything in any quantity? He grabbed a couple of containers of berries he knew he liked but avoided some of the things he'd never seen.

“Buck.” Steve said as he reached to put a container of blueberries in the cart. He froze, uncertainty starting to draw his hand back. Steve gently took the berries and put them with the others before locking eyes with him.

“Talk to me? Something is wrong.” 

He shrugged, unsure how to put words to the thoughts he was having. 

Steve watched his eyes, staying silent for a long moment. The vivid blue brought so many memories right to the edge of the surface. He could feel them just out of reach. 

“It's a lot, huh?” Steve asked, his voice quiet. “Remember when we were kids and we would have to save for a week or two to get anything like this?”

He nodded, feeling relieved that Steve managed to work to it on his own. 

Steve smiled at him. It wasn't the same smile that Brian had gotten. This smile was a real one. “How about this? You point out things that look interesting and I will worry about how much or if we get it. That sound easier?”

“Yeah.” 

They returned to where they started and he moved through, touching anything that looked interesting. He ignored Steve, tried not to think about him following behind, actually spending money on the things he touched.

The next many isles revealed thousands upon thousands of items in boxes, bags, cans, containers, jars, and bottles. His mind swam as he tried to even comprehend all of the items. His mind drew up images of the old grocery store with it's hundred or so items. He touched little, just letting his eyes rove over everything.

Halfway through the store he realized that, while his eyes still moved, he was seeing less. He continued to look, some items catching his attention, but not really reading things anymore. By the time they reached the meats and cheeses section, his head was buzzing. A hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped. “Buck. You with me?” Steve's voice was quiet.

“Yeah… Yeah. I'm here.” He said, trying to push back the buzzing.

“Hey. Let's head out. If you're up to it, I had one other place I wanted us to go today.” Steve said. “But it's up to you. We can go there any time.”

“Where?” 

“You remember the old apartment we had?”

He nodded. 

“I bought it. Well, bought the whole building, but.” Steve smiled sheepishly. “Anyway, figured if you wanted to, we could go see it. If nothing else it's a bit of a drive from here and it seemed like you were enjoying that.”

He nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 

Steve guided him to the front of the store and he and Brian put all the groceries in paper bags. No money exchanged hands, he was glad not to know how much it all cost. Brian shook Steve's hand. Before Brian could salute again, he offered his hand. The other man looked surprised but shook it all the same.

They loaded everything into the Jeep and he climbed back in, happy to be safe inside the bullet proofing once more. 

The drive to the apartment was longer. Steve owned the building now. That didn't seem possible. He remembered walking home or sitting up at night after Steve had fallen asleep, wondering how they could possibly make rent and now Steve owned the whole building.

Like before, the names of the streets became more familiar, even if the buildings looked different. Still, even with the front of the building changed, he recognized the apartment and pulled off to park before Steve prompted him. He could see Steve smiling out of the corner of his eye. 

He stepped out more easily this time, Steve didn't have to come around to stand by his door. He looked up and down the street. A few memories whispered back, of the time spent sitting on the curb or steps leading to the door, watching the world go by. Steve was waiting for him by the door that lead to the small indoor landing. He remembered how lucky he had felt, having stairs inside the building. He’d been relieved. Steps inside the building had been safer in the winter ice.

He closed the door behind them and started up the stairs to the second floor. “Moving the mattress up here was fucking hell.” He grumbled and Steve laughed.

As they rounded the first flight, a woman's voice called. “Steve!” He turned to see a woman who looked to be in her late 70s, at least, stepping out of one of the apartments. 

“Mrs. Barren.” Steve said. He watched for him to turn on the Captain America charm, like with Brian, but he didn't. The smile remained his natural one as he moved over to her. She reached a gnarled, boney hand up to pat his cheek fondly. 

“How are you Steve? I never see you around anymore.”

“I'm living mainly over at Stark Tower.”

She scoffed. “I don't know about that Tony Stark. You be careful around him. He brings trouble everywhere! Who is your friend?” She said, her milky eyes finding him. 

He stepped forward and extended a hand “Sergeant Barnes, ma'am.”

She smiled widely, taking his offered hand. “Bless my soul, I saw about you on the news.” She said. “I'm glad to hear you escaped.”

“Thank you.”

“Didn't you and Steve used to live here? I think that's what the TV said.” She asked but her eyes were back on Steve, who answered easily. 

“That's right.” 

She looked back to him. “It's so wonderful that you both found each other again. Sergeant, did Steve tell you he bought this whole building? Fixed up all of the apartments and refuses to let us pay him a dime. You'll never meet a kinder hearted man.” She smiled up at Steve again. “I won't keep you. It's good to see you, Steve, and nice to meet you as well.”

Steve smiled as she left before heading to the stairs again. They met no one else on the second flight of stairs and Steve stopped outside their door. Instead of a key, he placed his hand flat on the wall and a moment later a click told him the door unlocked. 

He stepped inside and stopped immediately. An overwhelming sensation of comfort washed over him. This wasn't just a building. This had been  _ home. _ The place he had longed to come, forgotten in wave after wave of wiping. Now, memories exploded in every corner of his mind as if each inch of the house held its own important memory.

He didn't realize he'd left the door hanging open until it snicked shut as Steve closed it. He took a few steps into the familiar space. There were some differences. The kitchen appliances had been changed, the walls painted. Where the radio had stood, now hung a television, but the vast majority of the space remained the same. 

His eyes maped the scratches on the decades old floor boards. He remembered putting some in as they had moved furniture into the room. He moved to a spot on the wall, touching it. He remembered a fight, getting shoved into the wall with enough force to break the plaster. He'd had to repair it the next day but the paint never quite matched up. 

He opened the door to the bathroom. The large, clawfoot tub remained. He wondered if the hot tap worked now or if you still had to heat water on the stove to fill it. 

In the bedroom, the bed had a frame and box spring rather than just the bare mattress on the floor. The window sill was no longer covered in towels to try to block the icy wind from blowing in.

He slipped out into the fire escape and looked down, remembering smoking and looking up at the clouds. 

He slipped back into the living room. His eyes fell onto the bay window with the bench seat. The fingers of his left hand drifted across the seat. “Used to have to pry you outta here with a crowbar for dinner.” He said. 

Steve laughed. “Yeah, Buck. You did.”

“I can't believe how similar it looks.”

Steve smiled. “Some of that is my doing. I came in and un-upgraded some things. After reintegration, I just wanted things to stop. It was all so much. I remember.” Steve paused, walked over to the couch and dropped heavily into it. “I would just sit awake at the reintegration camp and dream of coming back here. As soon as I was out, I bought this place and did everything I could to just reset everything. Then I would sit here at night in panics. It was all just too much. I just wanted this life back. I don't think I slept for months.”

He walked over and sat next to Steve on the couch. It felt so similar but he still… “I still can't remember you from back then. I remember here, though.”

Steve smiled. “You have a long time to get your memories back, Buck. Once they start, they’ll keep coming and coming, so honestly, it might be a blessing to still not remember it all yet.”

“Did no one help you after you woke up?”

Steve shrugged. “The reintegration team did a lot. Got me caught up on how things had changed, how they worked, but it was a lot like school. Just a fuck ton of information crammed down your throat. By the time that was done, I thought I was ready to be out, that it was what I needed, but it wasn't. Plus, they didn't really get it. They grew up with this stuff. To them, a cell phone was no more interesting than a pencil. I got tired of askin’ questions. Just let them tell me. Then, I came back here and proceeded to freak out. Then Loki attacked New York.”

“Loki?” He asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar. 

“Oh. I figured you'd been around for that. Remind me when we get home. Jarvis has better footage than the news, I can get you access. After that, I went on missions, was part of the team. It kept me busy enough not to struggle so much. Then, when I found you, I spent a couple years taking out Hydra. That pretty well catches you up.” He flashed a smile.

He thought over all the information, then back through the day. “Steve. How do so many people know who I am?”

Steve exhaled, long and slow, raking a hand through his hair. He was stalling. He waited, knowing that Steve would run out of ways to delay answering soon enough. “During the Helicarrier attack.” Steve sighed again. “Nat released all of SHIELD and Hydra’s files into the web. A lot of it was cleaned very quickly, people don't just have your code words or anything, but a lot of information about you. It's out there. The news found it pretty quickly, after the attack, and it was all they wanted to talk about. There were hearings and eventually you were cleared of all charges. The information was classified and removed from the web but copies still remain. It's why I couldn't search for you right away.”

He felt sick to his stomach. He was free, but at what cost? 

“I'm sorry, Buck.” Steve's voice was quiet. Steve rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He leaned over until their shoulders bumped. Steve dropped an arm around his shoulder and he allowed himself to be pulled into the one armed hug. He resolutely ignored the fact that when Steve released him, his stomach felt calmer.

“Ready to head home?” Steve asked.

He nodded.

Later that night, Steve made good on his promise to give him access to the videos of the attack on New York. As he watched, he noticed something odd. He watched the footage three times over after dinner before finally speaking to Steve. “He seems different after this.” He pointed to Loki after the giant green version of Bruce smashed him. 

Steve shrugged. “He knew he was beat then, I think. Makes anyone act different.”

He shook his head and watched it again. He couldn't place it but something in that moment changed, he was sure of it. He just couldn't place what. 

“Jarvis, can you get a better look at his face?” He asked, more than an hour after Steve had gone to bed. 

“Certainly.”

The picture was less clear but he could still see the change in the other man's face. The calm, distant expression faded into panic and fear in that moment. It was a look that felt far too familiar. He closed the footage and went to bed, not wanting to think about it anymore. The last thing on his mind as he fell asleep was the sudden look of fear visible in the vivid green eyes.

March 13

It had been three days since Steve, Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Natalia had left for some kind of mission. After almost five months of constantly having  _ someone _ around, being alone made the tower seem even bigger than it was. He'd had no problem staying busy. He'd divided his time fairly equally between the gym, the range, and curled up in the apartment with Pup, reading or watching TV. 

He was stretched out on the couch now, reading. Pup had wedged herself between his side and the couch and rested with her head on his chest. His right hand ran through her soft fur as he read.

As Pup shifted, kicking him in the ribs, he sat up. Immediately, she crawled to the spot on the couch where he'd been laying and curled up in the warmth. “You only love my for my body heat.” He grumbled before scrubbing at her ears.

“Hey, J? Am I allowed to go in Tony's lab without him there?” He asked absently.

“Mr. Stark removed you from the visitor protocol, you may go to the lab at any point you wish to do so.”

He stood and headed for the elevator. He had no reason to go, other than curiosity, but if it was allowed, he would enjoy the chance to explore out from under Tony's watching eyes.

Stepping off the elevator and into the silence was almost eerie. He was used to Tony's blaring music. He moved from bench to bench, his eyes exploring the different things on each. It became apparent that Tony mainly kept single projects on each bench. Anything too big for a single bench, he'd pulled benches together to make it work. Several benches seemed to be dedicated to parts of his suit, either upgrades or repairs, all in various stages of completion. 

He found several benches with things that were obviously for Peter's suit, rather than Tony's. The bench he and Peter had worked on the web formula a few weeks ago, still had the papers and bottles of chemicals laid out. 

On a bench in the back corner, he was surprised to find detailed drawings and schematics for his arm. He paused and spread them out, examining the notes Tony had made in his tight, small writing. It looked like they were ideas for upgrades and improvements. Notes on how to make it lighter without sacrificing strength filled almost a full sheet. 

He stopped himself from picking the paper up as the sound of the elevator opened. Pepper stepped out, then jumped when her eyes landed on him. His heart raced. Did she know Tony approved of him being here alone? Did she have some say in who was allowed in the lab?

“Hey, Bucky. What are you doing down here?” 

She was smiling. “Jarvis said it was ok.” He said carefully.

“Oh, it's ok. You can be down here, you just surprised me.” 

He crossed the room to her. As he approached, he was struck by how different she appeared. Her bravado, which had before filled the room, was gone. He hadn’t realized before how much smaller she was. She just looked small and frail and tired. Her eyes looked very faintly red. “Are you ok?” He asked softly.

“What? Oh, yeah, I'm.” She looked around the lab, eyes coming to rest on one of the suits on the wall. “Not really?” She sighed. “After all that shit with the Mandarin, this was supposed to stop! Things were supposed to be normal but he just can't. I tried to help him stop and he just fell apart.” She took a slow breath. “I'm sorry. You probably didn't care about any of that. It’s just hard when he's gone, wondering if he will make it back.”

He nodded. “I understand that.” He said. He'd seen it plenty in the war; mothers, wives, girlfriends, sisters, all wondering the same thing.

She smiled. “So why  _ are _ you down here?” She asked.

“Just wanted to look without Tony--”

“Staring needles at you?” She asked with a laugh. He smiled too.

“Basically, yeah.” he said, turning to look around the room.

“He’s so amazing. I just wish I could help him more. He's been through so much. I try everything I can and nothing seems to make him better. He won't see a therapist, he won't let me see a therapist if it's to bring information back to him. The only thing he will do to try to get better is tinker down here.”

Jarvis cut across her words. “The Quinjet is landing on the roof and they are moving to the meeting room.”

“Oh, thank God,” she said under her breath. 

He followed Pepper to the elevator. By the time they reached the meeting room Steve, Tony, Natalia, and Clint were all already there and milling about. 

Pepper moved across the room to hug Tony, who caught her in a kiss. He moved to where Steve and Clint stood talking. Steve had a nasty looking cut across his cheek bone and Clint had a sizeable bruise on his left arm but otherwise they seemed ok. 

“Bruce still coming down?” He asked. Both men tensed. 

“Bruce left with Thor.” The name brought up the image Natalia had shown him on the tablet. 

“Where did they go?” He asked.

“Space.” Clint said. 

He laughed, he thought Clint was joking, but both men stayed quiet. “Is he ok?” He asked, they were both acting so serious.

“He’s with Thor, so he should be.” Steve said, a false smile on his face. “Want to help me cook?” 

He and Steve made burgers for everyone. They sat around the table. As time went on, the general feeling of unease lessened and by the time they all sat down to eat, everyone was laughing. Clint and Tony were telling stories about each other's failures with increasing volume as they struggled to be heard over one another. Natalia joined in and the boys quieted down as she reminded them they would have both been injured if the Black Panther hadn't stepped in. 

“Oh, T'Challa was there?” Pepper asked. She still looked tired but it seemed to be lessened somehow, now that Tony was back. He made a note to look up the Black Panther that night.

While he enjoyed talking to everyone, he was more than happy when Steve suggested they return to the apartment.

Steve stopped almost as soon as they got off the elevator. Pup leaped on his hip and he groaned, almost overbalancing. “Steve?” There was a note of panic in his tone that he hadn't quite managed to mask in time.

“Can you help me get out of this?” Steve asked. His voice was tight. 

“Yeah.” He said, removing the shield on his back and setting it on the floor against the wall before moving to remove the buckles. Steve tried to help but it was immediately obvious he was more in the way than helping, so Steve fell still and let him work. 

Once the armor was removed, he pulled the shirt open. From his armpit all the way down his ribs and sides and past the hem of his pants Steve's right size was one blackened bruise. “What the fuck, Stevie?” He snapped, stepping back to see the damage.

Steve unbuckled his belt and loosened it so his pants no longer sat so tight on his hip. The bruise obviously extended down his leg. “How far does that go down?”

Steve shrugged and a bloom of anger spread through his chest. Distantly, he was aware it was far more frustrating than the situation warranted but the knowledge Steve was hurt  _ again _ seemed to matter far more. “Show me.” He demanded.

“Fuck you.” Steve said, a frown spreading across his face. “I ain't a fucking kid anymore, Buck. I can handle myself.”

“I don't give a fuck. Show me.” Steve defiantly met, and held, his gaze for several long moments before glaring at the wall over his shoulder and letting his pants fall. The bruise extended clear to his knee, which was coated in a layer of dried blood. He reached out and hooked a finger around the elastic of Steve's boxers and pulled them slightly off his hip bone, dried blood coated the cloth. “What happened?” He asked, the anger fading.

“I got knocked off a roof but I'm  _ fine. _ The bones already healed and the bruising will go away in another hour or two. I don't need you fussing over me like a damn mother hen.” Steve jerked down to grab his pants but went still halfway through pulling them back up. He'd gone too quickly in his anger and it was obvious he'd hit some part of the bruising. 

He moved around him. There were several cuts on his back but nothing serious. The one on his cheek was already lightening. Pepper's statement about worrying if they would come back felt very real in that moment as he looked at Steve's bruised side. 

“You gotta be more careful, Stevie.” He said quietly. 

Steve, who had been collecting his stuff, stilled then turned to look at him. The vivid blue eyes caught his. 

“I just got you back. Can't go disappearing on me now.” He said.

Steve lifted his left arm and rested it at the point where his shoulder met his neck. Steve's fingers warned his skin. “You ain't gonna get rid of me that easy, punk. ‘Til the end of the line, remember?”

“Yeah. End of the line.” He said, smiling.

Steve smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you somehow have not yet seen Homecoming, there are some spoils in this. I also may have taken some creative liberties with it so not like _actual_ spoilers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

March 23

“He's a good kid. He just needs to...”

The rest of Tony's words were drowned out as the base in the music swelled. He leaned back in his chair. Peter had been the topic of conversation for the last several days, after he nearly drowned trying to take down an arms dealer. Tony had been in India, announcing the opening of a school he'd built, but had managed to save Peter with a remote suit.

“...keep telling him to stay on the ground but he just…” Tony's words drifted through the music. The first few times Tony had talked like this, he'd struggled to keep up and hear every word but now he knew if the music stayed loud Tony just needed to talk, not necessarily that he needed anyone to listen.

The music paused suddenly, leaving a slight ring in his ears. He sat up. Tony turned his chair, “I shouldn't have yelled though, right? I mean the kid almost died and I scolded him. God, I'm just like fucking Howard.” Tony pushed a hand through his hair. “And then he saved those kids in D.C.” Tony sighed.

“Tony, if you fucked up, call him and apologize.” He said. This was at least the fifth time he'd said it but Tony had yet to follow through.

Tony stood and paced. “Ok. Ok. Fine, you're right. J, call Peter.” Tony picked up a tablet. “Mr. Parker. Got a sec?”

“Uh, I'm actually at school.” He heard Peter say.

“Nice work in D.C. My dad never really gave me a lot of support growing up and I'm trying to break the cycle of shame.” 

“I'm kind of in the middle of something right now..”

“Don't cut me off when I'm complimenting you. Anyway, great things are about to--”

A loud horn sounded in the background.

“What was that?” Tony asked his brows knitting together.

“Uh. I'm at..band practice?” Peter said haltingly.

“That's odd. You told me you quit band three weeks ago. What's up?”

“Oh, uh, I gotta go. End call!”

“Hey!” Tony glared at the now black tablet. “You see? This is why you can't do anything nice for kids. What the hell is his problem?” Tony was yelling. He threw the tablet, which shattered across the ground.

From the corner, movement caught his attention. A large machine trundled out of a corner and across the lab, a broom clamped in it's claw. “Umm, Tony? What is that?” 

“What? That's DUM-E. I kept him decommissioned until you were less unstable.” Tony said, waving a hand. “Can you focus right now? What the fuck am I supposed to do with this kid?”

His eyes tracked the robot as it moved to the glass and began sweeping at it, though not very effectively. “I--”

“Sir, there is something you will want to see.” Jarvis spoke.

A projection appeared of a boat which appeared to have been cut clean down the middle. Jumping through the wreckage was Peter in his suit. Tony's face went white. “Jarvis engage!! Let's go, now!!” Tony shouted.

He had to duck as parts of Tony's suit flew at him from all over the lab. The last few parts flew after Tony as he shot through the exit in the wall.

He watched as Tony appeared by the boat. He sealed it up and helped ensure it got to shore.

He waited. Steve was out for another hour or two and Clint and Natalia were gone this week. Tony would be back soon. 

It was 30 minutes before Tony returned. As soon as he landed, he threw Peter's suit onto the work bench. Tony’s suit opened. Tony tried to step out and stumbled, catching himself on the bench. He was still ashen faced, his hand clutched at the glowing ring in his chest. His breath came in tight gasps.

“Tony?” He said, moving towards him but Tony waved a hand at him and stumbled towards the fridge. He opened it, clinging to the cabinet as he pulled out a beer. His hands struggled uselessly with the cap.

Carefully he crossed the room to stand by Tony. “Hey. Breathe.” He reached over and placed his right hand on Tony's shoulder. His left gently pulled the bottle from Tony's shaking hands. 

“Fuck. Off.” Tony said between breaths, trying to grab the bottle back. 

“Tony, take a couple breaths and I'll give it back. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

“Out. Get. Out!”

“Fuck you, I'm not leaving till you calm down and breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” 

Tony shoved at his shoulder but only succeeded in falling into him for a moment as he lost balance. Tony tried to take a breath but it ended in a coughing fit. “Good. Again.” He prompted. 

Tony glared at him but tried again. This time he managed a full breath without coughing.

He used his left thumb to pop the cap off the beer. Tony reached for it. “One more breath.” He said, waiting for Tony to comply before passing the bottle. Tony drained the bottle in one, threw the bottle in the direction of the trash. It missed and shattered. DUM-E moved to sweep the glass.

“What the fuck is your problem!? Don't you ever fucking do that again!” Tony was yelling. “I am not a fucking child! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!” Tony grabbed a second beer from the fridge.

“Yeah, I'm seeing that. Is Peter ok?” He asked.

Tony hesitated halfway through bringing the bottle to his lips. “He. I took back the suit. He could have died. I told him. I told him to leave it alone. I called the FBI but he thought I wasn't listening to him. If he got killed out there doing stupid shit in the suit  _ I  _ gave him.” Tony drained most of the second bottle before leaning back on the counter.

“Did you  _ tell _ him you called the FBI or just to leave it alone?” He asked.

Tony took a drink rather than answering.

“So, that's not really fair then, Tony.”

“Fuck off. Kid couldn't follow directions. It wasn't safe for him to be out there!”

“You know he's not going to stop. He's going to keep going, regardless.”

“If he does, it's not on me.” Tony snapped, finishing the second bottle and reaching for a third. “You drink?” He grabbed two bottles and offered him one before he answered.

“It doesn't affect me anymore, not really.” He said, taking the bottle anyway. Tony crossed the lab to the suit, which hung half off the workbench he threw it on. He followed quietly behind, using his thumb to pop to bottle cap off. 

“It wasn't safe.” Tony said again before crossing to the couch and dropping heavily into it. 

“You going to bar him from the tower?” he asked, leaning on the wall across from Tony.

“No. He can still come. I mean, I didn't tell him that but…” Tony paused for a drink, “I didn't tell him not to come either.”

He nodded and took a drink himself. Peter was a good kid but after that, he doubted that he'd ever come back to the tower.

Tony called for DUM-E to bring them another round after he finished his.

“So, where did dummy come from?” He asked.

“No, DUM-E. D-U-M dash E. And I made him in Dad's shop when I was nine.” 

The robot appeared with another bottle. “Go finish sweeping, I still see glass over here.” Tony snapped at the robot.

“Kept it around all this time, Tony? I had no idea you were so sentimental.”

“Piss off.” Tony said, but his voice held no heat. “Haven't had time to replace him.”

“Really? No time?” He laughed. 

Tony leaned back, his eyes scanning the lab before resting on him again. “I couldn't let him risk his life. He was ready to kill himself to save that fucking boat. He  _ hacked _ the suit so that I couldn't even keep tabs on him. That tracker is the  _ only _ reason he didn't drown. If--” 

Tony stopped at the sound of the elevator opening. Pepper stepped out. “Tony?” She spotted him on the couch. “Are you drunk? Tony, it's 4 in the afternoon. The press are wanting a statement about the boat.”

“I already gave a statement on camera, right after it happened.” Tony said, frustration creeping into his voice. “I did my bit, so the media can go to hell.” 

“They are asking all kinds of questions about the kid, they are practically crawling up the tower to get a statement. Apparently, when they tried to ask you earlier you,” she looked through some papers she was carrying “Took off in your suit without responding. Can you at least do a phone interview? How drunk are you?”

“Pepper, no, I'm not doing it! Just tell them no!”

She marched over to stand next to Tony. Through clenched teeth she snapped, “People heard him talking, they know he's a kid. The media is already printing stories of Tony Stark's  _ son _ making his debut performance. You have to stop this before this screws up  _ his _ life. You may be fine with my life being hell but if the media starts sniffing, you know they will find him eventually.”

Tony raked a hand through his hair and stood. He was slightly unsteady but otherwise seemed well enough. He wandered over to the bathroom and, in the quiet lab, he could hear the shower starting.

Pepper sighed and turned to him. “How are you doing, Bucky?” She asked, her face relaxing into a smile.

“Good. Thanks. Tony, he had some kind of, I guess, panic attack? When he got back.”

Pepper looked towards the bathroom door. “Was he able to calm down on his own ok?”

“Don't know. I wouldn't let him handle it in his own.”

“Wouldn't let?” Pepper laughed as she turned to him. “Thank you, Bucky. Tony is so damn stubborn sometimes. You're a good friend.”

The bathroom door opened and Tony trudged out, hair soaking wet, shirt clinging to him as though he hadn't dried off before putting it back on. Pepper opened her arms when he got close and he immediately walked into them. His forehead dropped to her shoulder. She ran her nails gently through the shorter hair at the back of his head. Tony let out a long, slow sigh. 

“Thank you, Tony. I know you hate this but it will be over the phone and then we can do whatever you want. It isn't fair to Peter not to keep the press away from him.”

Tony let out another sigh before slowly straightening up enough to kiss her. “Love you.” She said before stepping back. 

“Love you, too.” Tony said, following her quietly out of the lab.

March 29

It was almost a week later before he caught Tony back in the shop. He'd woken up from a nightmare and asked Jarvis out of habit more than expectation.

He washed his face, dressed, and headed for the lab. Tony sat at one of the work benches, music pounding when he stepped off the elevator. Tony held a pen in his hand but was spinning it, rather than writing. 

The music was loud enough he'd have no way of yelling over it, so he gestured for Jarvis to bring the music down then back up. It worked, Tony spun to see him.

Tony looked rough. He had bags under both eyes and looked like he may have lost a pound or two, as well. His hair was disheveled like he'd been running his fingers through it over and over.

“Bucky? Why are you awake. Wait, what time…” he turned to look at the clock on the farthest bench, “Yeah. Why are you awake?”

He pulled a chair over and sat. “Nightmares.”

Tony nodded, looking distracted. “Yeah.”

“Where have you been, Tony?” He asked softly

“Out of town. Pepper wanted a vacation. She thinks they are good distractions.”

“Where did you go?” He asked.

“Wakanda.” Tony said, leaning back in his chair. 

“That's where T’challa lives right?” He asked.

Tony nodded, smoothing absently at the blank paper in front of him.

“Tony, are you ok?” 

“You were right. About Peter. I should have told him about the FBI and I didn't. When you are out there fighting, sometimes you just have to follow orders and trust, and I was expecting that of him when I shouldn't. Once school is out, I'm going to call him and have him come in so we can talk. Maybe once he’s eighteen he can join back up. He's a good kid, he's just not ready.”

“Really, Tony? Follow orders? You mean like you're so good at? Seriously, have you followed an order ever in your life?” 

Tony glared at him. “He's a  _ kid _ . There is a difference. I can get away with it because I can make a more educated decision.”

He snorted. “You're full of shit and you know it.”

Tony didn't answer.

“How long till school's out for him?”

Tony sighed, “I don't know.” He said, his voice exasperated.

“Might not hurt to do it sooner.” He said.

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Maybe.”

April 5

He had been down in the lab with Tony last night when the news relayed the story of Queen's own Spider-Man taking down the Vulture. After an entirely too quick ‘I told you so’, Tony had told him to come to the lab that afternoon so he could be around when Tony let Peter come back. 

He had asked Jarvis when school was over and then waited a half hour after the time he provided before coming to the lab.

As he stepped off the elevator, the lab was silent. He frowned. Surely Peter would be getting there soon. Tony couldn't have forgotten?

"J, where is Tony?"   
  
"Might I suggest checking YouTube? He appears to be trending."

“Trending?” He pulled out his phone and pulled up YouTube. The first video on the page was titled “Tony Stark at high school.” He tapped on the video. 

It was obviously taken with a cell phone. A girl was talking and videoing her friend when the roar of an engine made them turn. “O. M. G. Who is that!?” The girl recording asked. Then a few seconds later. “Is that Tony Stark?!” She, as well as the students around her, crowded close to Tony's car. It was one of the flashiest ones in the garage. 

“I'm looking for Peter Parker.” Tony spoke loudly and clearly to the group. 

A whisper seemed to roll like a wave through the crowd, getting louder until the people closer to the building were shouting for Peter. After a moment, Peter appeared at the top of the steps of the school. He managed to not look completely shocked as he moved through the crowd.

“Hey. Mr. Stark!” He called when he got close.

“Mr. Parker! Ready to continue with your internship?” Tony asked easily. The shit eating grin on his face proved he was loving every second. 

“Yeah!” Peter said.

“Hop in, I'll give you a lift.” 

All the kids backed up so Tony could pull away as Peter hopped into the passenger seat.

The elevator opened and Pepper stepped out. “Where is Tony?” She looked harassed. 

“Umm. I guess he is picking Peter up from school?” 

“You saw it, too? God, the press is already having a field day. Can we just go one week without a scandal? I had to call a press conference. Can you have him text me when he gets here? Or better yet, can  _ you _ text me when he gets here?”

He laughed. “Not sure. You going to murder him?”

That at least got her to smile. “Worse, putting him in front of the media.”

“Yeah, Pepper I'll let you know.”

She touched his arm. “Thank you, Bucky.”

It was less than five minutes before Tony and Peter stepped through the elevator. Peter was rapidly talking about the fight with the Vulture. Tony was listening as he spoke. He shot a text to Pepper before addressing Tony.

“Hey, Tony. Pepper was just here. The press is waiting?” 

As if on cue, Pepper stepped back off the elevator. 

“What? That's perfect! We can officially introduce the world to the newest Avenger!” Tony said, clapping Peter on the back.

“Oh. No. Mr. Stark. I can't. If everyone knows who I am, the media. Plus, Aunt May would kill me. Please, I can't.”

“Tony, the press is waiting for some big news. You can't just go pick up Peter from school and not expect a huge inquiry as to why. If you're not introducing him, you need to think of something else.”

Tony's eyes scanned the lab. “Oh, I know.” Tony fished in his pockets and produced a delicate ring. 

“ _ Tony _ , I thought we agreed you would be subtle with the announcement.” 

“This is subtle. Just a few dozen reporters. Remember, I could have your name in lights all over the city in less than 5 minutes.”

“Is that an  _ engagement _ ring?” Peter asked but neither of them answered.

“You planned this, didn't you?” Pepper asked, glaring in a way that didn't quite reach her eyes.

“What? No, of course not.” Tony said.

“Then why do you have the ring with you?”

“I usually have it with me.”

Pepper's eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“Well, I mean, you never know when the right moment will happen, right?”

“Tony… How long have you been carrying that around?”

Tony picked up a screwdriver from the bench next to him. “A while.”

Pepper's hands moved to her hips. “How long is a while?”

Tony didn't answer, his eyes on the screwdriver as he turned it in his hands.

“Tony!” Pepper said sharply.

“Like… Six years? Give or take.”

Pepper stepped closer to Tony and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a kiss.

“Love you.” Tony said when they broke apart.

“Love you, too. Let's see if we can distract some reporters.”

As soon as they left the floor, he spoke, “J, can we get live feed from that conference?”

“Certainly, Mr. Barnes. It should be interesting.”

A projection of one of the conference rooms upstairs came into view, a soft din as they talked amongst each other.

“Good to have you back, kid.” He said as they waited for Tony and Pepper to appear.

“Thank you. Mr. Stark said you thought he was unfair.”

“He was. He should have told you about the FBI. He was setting you up to fail.”

“I…” but he stopped as the din was instead filled with reporters shouting questions as Tony entered the room.

Tony had changed into a black suit and tie with a black shirt beneath. He waved the reporters down and waited for silence before speaking.

“I wanted to thank you all for coming. I have some big news to share, but first I need to address the concern you all seem to be having. Peter Parker is and has been an intern of mine for the last few months. He shows amazing promise as a chemist, focusing on biochemistry. I picked him up at school today as a surprise to congratulate him on his work so far and to formally offer him a job with me once he has graduated. I look forward to working with him through his internship and hopefully into the future.”

The reporters surged up, attempting once again to shout questions at him. Tony again waved them down. “Now, I have a very important announcement to make. Ms. Potts, if you could join me?”

Pepper moved from her spot by the door to stand next to Tony. He took her hand and kissed her palm. She ran a hand over his cheek. Tony dropped smoothly to one knee. For the first time since the conference had started, everyone in the press was silent as though, collectively, they held their breath. Peter hopped up on the work bench next to him, leaning forward to watch.

“Pepper, for the past fourteen years, no matter what is going on or how my life has changed, you have been there. You have kept me sane through running this company. You gave me a reason to survive Afghanistan. You helped me survive my return. You took over Stark Industries when I was dying and you saved my life. You have put up with all my shit and called me on it  _ every _ time. You have put up with my forgetfulness and single minded focus. You've seen me through the worst moments of my life and brought me through it a better person. I cannot imagine not spending every moment of the rest of our lives together.” Tony reached into his jacket and produced the ring. “Virginia Pepper Potts, will you marry me?”

Pepper's cheeks were streaked with tears as she nodded. Tony slid the ring on her finger and stood, pulling her into a kiss. The reporters erupted, half cheering, the other half shouting questions. The questions were no longer about Peter, but instead about the wedding.

Tony stepped back to the mic, “Thank you all for your attendance. We will release more information as we make decisions. Thank you.” He put a hand on Pepper's lower back and guided her out of the room amidst shouts from the reporters.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Peter wiping away a single tear. After a moment's silence, Peter looked at him. “Mr. Barnes can I as--”

“I told you Peter, call me Bucky.”

“Right. Sorry. Bucky, can I ask a favor?”

“What's up?” He turned to look at Peter. They were almost the same height, with Peter sitting on the workbench.

“I have a final for school, every year we have to do kind of like a thesis but not like, as long or complicated, and it applies to our final grade across all our classes, so even if you are doing bad in a class, if you do ok on the thesis, it will help you still be able to move on to the next year. Not. Not that my grades are bad or anything. I've got ‘A’s in all my subjects. Except Spanish. I don't know why we have to learn a for..” Peter paused, the tiniest whispers of pink in his cheeks. “But you don't care about that, ummm. Anyway, I was wondering if I could examine your left arm and write about it for my thesis? I really want to do Biochem and Biotech stuff when I get out of school and that would be a really cool way to get started on that.”

“Biochem and Biotech?” He asked 

“Oh, yeah, it's… It's like using biology, so the living things, with technology to make improvements to people's lives.”

“How could this,” he shifted the plates in his arm, “improve anyone's life?”

Peter hesitated. “I mean, you have an arm where you didn't before? And it works. Like, you can pick stuff up and feel stuff with it. So, that's an improvement right? There are lots of people who don't have an arm that would totally kill for tech like that just to be able to have two arms again.”

“Sure. You can study it.” He said. 

“Really?! Thank you so much, Bucky! I'll come back as soon as I have a Saturday?”

“Yeah, that's fine. Text me before you do.”

Peter's eyes went huge as he grabbed a sheet of blank paper off the closest bench and wrote his cell number down.

“I. Ok. I will. Thank you so much. This is going to be amazing!”

Peter pulled out his phone. The screen on it had shattered so that Peter had to work around the fractured glass. A couple seconds later his pocket buzzed.

“Now you have my number, too.” Peter explained when he raised an eyebrow.

The elevator opened and Tony stepped out, back in the T-shirt and jeans. “Mr. Stark, that was so amazing and so sweet.” Peter said as soon as Tony was close to them.

Tony glanced at the screen, where the last few reporters still mulled around, before turning to look at him. “Nosey much?”

“Needed to see how big of a train wreck it was.” He covered easily as Peter’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. 

Tony sniffed but then turned to look back at Peter. “Ok. So your suit is over here. I have made a few changes to it, nothing fancy.” He walked to the bench where he'd originally tossed the suit and passed it back to Peter. “I want you here at  _ least _ twice a week to work on the web fluid and to start teaching you the suits capabilities. There are a lot of things still locked on it. I have also hardlined the tracking. If you try to remove it again, I  _ will _ know and you  _ will _ be done. Understand?”

Peter nodded.

“What's that face? You have something to say. Out with it.” 

“I...when we removed the tracker, I turned off the training wheels too, so I do know some of the features already.”

“Yeah. I know. I knew you had done that before taking the suit. The AI, Karen is it? As soon as it came online, JARVIS alerted me. I wasn't pleased, though I will say I was a bit impressed. You don't seem like the hacker type. How exactly have you been getting around my security?” 

Peter hesitated. “I. Promise you won't be mad?”

“I'm not going to be mad, kid.”

“Are you sure? Because you were really upset before and I don't want to do anything that could risk losing this again because this internship and the suit and everything it--”

Tony cut across him. “It's fine. I'm not mad anymore. I just want to know how a kid is getting past my security.”

“I. I have this friend who's really good at that kind of stuff. He wants to go into cyber security and so he's been cracking security since like middle school. He's helped me a lot too, like with taking down Vulture, since I don't have the suit anymore, I kind of have been using him for some of the tech stuff, like tracking my phone and…”

Tony held up a hand and Peter quieted. “Does this friend have a name?”    
  


“Um..I mean, yeah of course he does.” Peter was looking around the lab again.

“And are you going to  _ tell _ me his name?” Exasperation was creeping into Tony's voice.

“I. I would need to ask him first. I can't just, like...throw him under the bus if he doesn't want you to know it was him or anything.

“Jesus! Ok, Pete, fine! Do that. Call him, text him, whatever! Tell him I want to meet him.”

Peter's eyes went wide. “Meet him? But just to, like, talk or something right, like he's not in trouble or anything.”

Tony's voice rose a bit. “He hacked a multi million dollar suit but yes, sure, he's not in trouble!” Tony took a deep breath and, when he spoke again, his voice was calm. “I would like to speak to him to know  _ how _ he broke through my security so I can ensure others who might have less pure intentions cannot get in later on.”

“Umm. Ok. I'll just..” Peter put the phone to his ear.

Moments later, he could clearly hear the voice on the other end of the phone. “Peter? Oh my god. I saw you on YouTube. You and Tony Stark. And then. Did he really offer you a job? Does this mean your Spider-Man again?”

“Yes and yes but listen. Mr. Stark knew about hacking the suit. He wants to meet you. Know how you did it. He wants your name but I wanted to tell you first.”

“He...wants...to meet me? And you haven't said yes? Oh my gosh, Peter, are you  _ serious? _ Like, should I come now? Are you there now? Wait. Are you there, like, with Tony Stark. Right. Now?”

“Yeah. We are in the lab and--”

“That. You. You're in Tony Stark's lab? Peter, are you serious right now?”

“Can I talk to him?” Tony asked, holding out his hand for the phone.

Peter hesitantly passed the phone over

“Hey, kid.”

“Mr. Stark? Sir, it is such an honor to be talking to--”

“What's your name?” Tony asked.

“Ned Leeds, sir, and--”

“Can you come to the office today? I would like to meet with you.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Stark. I will be there as soon as I can. Thank you so much for--”

Tony passed the phone back to Peter and picked up a tablet. An image of a kid around Peter's age had appeared, the name under it Ned Leeds. Peter spent several minutes trying to get Ned to disconnect. As he did, Tony scrolled through the information the tablet held as he wandered over to the kitchen and grabbed an apple and a beer from the fridge. “Buck, you want?” He held up both.

“Just an apple.” He called. Tony lobbed it across the lab and he caught it easily with his left arm. 

He took a bite as Tony moved back across the lab. “So.” Tony said, coming to a stop in front of Peter. “It's just you and your Aunt in your apartment, correct?”

“I. Yeah, why?” Peter's brow furrowed.

“Good. After I meet Ned, I'm coming to your place to let her know I'm moving you both. New apartment, state of the art. All expenses paid, of course. Rent paid, utilities paid, much better security.”

“Mr. Stark, no, you don't need to--”

“Not asking permission here, kid. It's for your safety and it will be a lot harder for anyone to know who you are. You can still go to the same school, I'll be sure of that.”

“Aunt May isn't going to let you pay for everything.”

“I think you'll discover I'm very persuasive. Besides, why wouldn't she want to never have to pay rent again?”

Peter's mouth opened and closed several times before he just ran a hand through his hair.

Steve texted that dinner was ready before Peter's friend arrived. He hadn't really wanted to meet the kid or hear Tony try to understand how the boy was getting through security, so he had no problem leaving the lab.

Steve had not seen the news of the engagement, so he filled him in over dinner. By the time he had told Steve the whole story and answered the few questions Steve had, he was feeling drained. 

He stood and washed his plate in the sink. “I'm going to bed.”

“Oh? Are you ok?” Steve asked.

“Just tired. Still the serum, maybe?” Since the injections his body seemed to tire more quickly. Or maybe he was just more aware of it.

Steve nodded understandingly. “Ok, Buck. See you in the morning.”

“Night.”

He changed for bed and fell asleep before the lights even dimmed.

He jolted to his feet. He had to run. If they found out he had escaped, the punishment would make death seem like a blessing. He ran full tilt when he heard a voice. Panic set in. They were coming, he had to...A hand clamped on his shoulder. He couldn't, he had to fight. He swung his left arm. 

In his panic, he didn't brace for the swing. Not only did the swing miss, he overbalanced and fell. Arms caught him as he fell solidly into his captor.

“Easy, pal. I got ya. You're safe.”

His breath was coming too quick, his heart pounding so loud in his ears it was liable to drown out the soft hum of words. 

“Come on now, deep breath.” 

The tone was firm enough to register as an order and his lungs pulled in a great gulp of air. With it came a familiar smell.  _ Steve _ .

For a split second, his panic redoubled. If Steve was here, then Steve could be caught too. But then details began to slot into place. Not Hydra, Stark tower. New York. Steve and Natalia. 

His breathing started to settle but his heart seemed unwilling to slow. Steve's hands were on his back, making absent patterns, as he continued to speak, low and quiet, in a voice that rumbled up through his chest. 

He let his forehead drop to Steve's collar bone for a moment, taking a few final breaths before pulling away.

“You ok, Buck?” Steve asked, concern clear on his face.

“Nightmare.” He said.

“Yeah, I got that. I asked if you were ok.”

He nodded. 

He settled into the couch with his book. Steve had a laptop he'd never seen before sitting on the coffee table. When he nodded at it Steve smiled easily. “Just catching up on some work.”

“You mean the great Captain America has a  _ job?  _ Economy must be rougher than I realized.”

Steve laughed. “Fuck you. Not everyone can be freeloaders, ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He said, settling back to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Hopefully the fluff will help!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

April 22

He was in the gym Saturday morning when he got the text from Peter asking to come see his arm. Steve was at a PR event all day. He texted back that he was available. He showered and changed into a sleeveless shirt before heading down to the lab. 

Tony had on the left hand of the suit, which was open, as he examined some internal part. Tony caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye and waved him over.

“Hey, Peter will be here soon.” He warned. 

“The arm thing? Fine. Check this out.” Tony gestured to the inside of the arm. It took him a second to realize what Tony was referencing. In many ways the inside of the arm drew parallels to his own arm. He pulled up a chair and listened as Tony explained the inner workings of the arm. Some of it he could follow pretty well, while other parts went straight over his head.

They both jumped when the music went silent as Peter stepped out of the elevator. “Mr. Parker.”

“Morning, Mr. Stark! Bucky!” Peter called, crossing the lab. “Thank you so much for letting me use your arm for my paper. It is so awesome!”

“Sure, kid.” He said with a smile. 

“Woah, Mr. Stark, is that Mark 46’s arm?”

Tony smiled, “47 actually.” Peter moved to where Tony sat. Peter opened his mouth and a flow of words he didn't understand followed forth. Tony, however, seemed to follow perfectly.

He grabbed a screwdriver and removed each of the plates. By the time Peter was done talking to Tony, he was peeling away the last plate. “Does that hurt?” Peter asked as he walked over. 

“Yeah.” 

“Woah, really? Why does it hurt?”

“It's peeling away from exposed nerve.”

“Those white bundles are nerves?” Peter asked. 

“Yeah, it's how he has sensation in the arm.” Tony had walked over and now stood leaning against the bench next to him.

Tony fielded most of Peter's questions as he wrote. Peter had him move his arm in a variety of directions to track it’s movement. It was easy, familiar, to let himself settle into just listening and following instructions without having to think or respond.

It wasn't until Peter asked a question and Tony remained silent that he pulled himself back into the conversation. “Sorry, what?” He asked.

“How much can you actually feel? I mean like looking at these, they are spread pretty far apart, is it just nothing in between?”

“There is some light sensation around, but basically nothing.” Peter frowned and wrote something down. 

“After these connect,” he pointed to where the nerves entered his shoulder, “where do they go?” 

He waited for Tony to answer, only to realize Tony was gone. He and Peter were alone in the lab.

“I think there's a scan. J? Could…”

Before he could finish, the projection appeared next to Peter. Peter turned and examined it, writing something down and mumbling to himself as he did. 

“I would have to work with Mr. Stark, but I think I may know a way to make it so your whole arm has feeling. Would you be ok with that? If I could, I mean?” Peter asked. 

“I would want to know what it was and how it worked, since I'd be doing maintenance on it, but then, yeah, maybe?” He said.

Peter beamed. “Let me look if…” he gestured for him to hold his arm above his head. 

“This was where the charge was?” Peter pointed to the empty section under his arm.

“Yeah.”

“I'm thinking it wouldn't be hard to extend from the existing points to widen the sensation to the whole plate. We could store the extra stuff needed where the charge was. I'll talk to Mr. Stark, ok?”

He nodded easily. Peter continued to give him instructions for positioning his arm, followed by long moments of silence as the wrote. 

It was during one of the long moments of silence that the elevator doors opened. Steve stepped out. His hair was plastered to his head and his shirt clung to him like he'd just showered.

“Hey! Thought you would be gone all day.”

Steve smiled as he crossed the lab towards them. “They let me off early for good behavior. Hey, Peter. What's going on?”

“Hi.” Peter said, his voice squeaked just a bit. “Umm, Bucky said I could study his arm to write my mini thesis for school. I'm doing the preliminary research.”

“Peter thinks he may be able to figure out a way to make it so my whole arm has feeling.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, turning to look at Peter.

“I...uhh...I mean, yeah, I think so? I'll have to run some ideas past Mr. Stark but I think I know a few ways we could try. It would--”

“Run what past me?” Tony's voice came from the elevator. Peter's cheeks turned pink.

“Peter has some ideas about making my whole arm able to have feeling.”

“Really?” Tony looked surprised. “Come over here, I've got all the mechanical drawings of his arm. Show me what you found.”

Peter stammered a bit but followed Tony. 

“Want some help getting everything put back together?” Steve asked easily. 

“Thanks, Stevie.” He said, letting himself lean back in his chair. Steve settled across from him, carefully re-setting each plate. He let his eyes close as Steve carefully moved his arm into the correct position to attach the next plate. After listening to Tony and Peter chatter, sitting in the quiet as Steve worked felt soothing.

When he was done, Steve stood and offered his hand. He grabbed it and let Steve pull him up. “You good to go relax? I need some down time.” Steve said quietly.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

Back in the apartment, they both settled on their respective couches. Steve grabbed his sketchbook and pencils. He grabbed his book and stretched out. Pup clambered onto the couch, wedging herself between him and the back of the couch and resting her head on his hip bone. He rubbed her ears as he read.

He heard Steve's breathing even out in less than half an hour. The events seemed to really drain him. He glanced over. Steve was sitting with his arm bent, head laying against it like a pillow. His sketchbook was in danger of falling from his other hand. 

He reached out and gently moved the pencils to the coffee table, then took the sketchbook. He hesitated, the sketchbook halfway to joining the pencils on the coffee table. Steve had told him looking at it might bring back memories but he remembered most everything now, didn't he? Looking couldn't hurt. 

With one quick glance to be sure Steve was still asleep, he leaned back on the couch and opened it. The first picture he remembered, the window seat in the apartment. It was still amazing how detailed Steve could draw. He wondered if it was from memory or from those days he sat alone in the old apartment wishing for the past.

The next picture was familiar, too. The old general store. He had to be drawing from memory, then. They had driven right by and this place wasn't there. Through the glass window, he could see the whispers of the owners, an old woman with curly white hair and her equally old husband who had always snuck the kids sweets when their parents weren't around.

The next picture was of the park where they had played, leaves falling from the trees. Even though the picture was in black and white, he could swear he could see the colors of fall on the page.

The next picture was a drawing of a photograph his Ma had taken. It had been Christmas morning. His eyes were immediately drawn to his own face smiling back at him. He couldn't have remembered his childhood face before but, in that moment, he had no question the face was his. 

Standing next to him, another boy all limbs and bones. The boy was shorter, only coming up to his shoulder. His arms were thin and boney. Honestly, all of him was thin and boney. His pants looked oversized. His collarbones jutted out from under his shirt. His face… He stared, something in the back of his mind struggling to break forward. Then he realized. It was Steve.

He was walking in the crisp Spring air. Sarah had caught him on his way out of school to tell him she'd be at a friend's till dinner. Ma didn't like his sisters home alone, which meant he normally needed to rush home after school, since she got out before him, but if she wouldn't be home till later he had some free time.

“Just stay down!” He frowned, pausing at the entrance to an alley. That was Charles. They were in the same class. Charles was a big kid. He'd tried to pick on him once. It hadn't gone in Charles’s favor. Peering down the alley, he saw Charles hit another boy in the gut, sending him to the ground. The boy started to get up but Charles kicked him in the ribs, which set the boy coughing.

Charles was known for being a bit of a bully but he normally stayed in his weight class. The kid had to be at least 5 years younger than them and less than half of Charles's weight. Without thinking, he stepped down the alley. “Hey!”

Charles spun but then saw it was him and relaxed. He'd been expecting an adult. “Oh, hey, James.” The boy was coughing hard. He hadn't tried to get up.

“The fuck you pickin’ on a kid, Charles?”

“He started it. Runnin’ his mouth. Tol’ 'em to stop but he wouldn't listen.” Charles squared his shoulders defiantly.

“Git out for I call yer Ma. Doesn't she work at the diner round the block?” 

Charles’s eyes went wide and he skirted around him and out of the alley. At the crunch of his footsteps on the gravel, the boy on the ground balled up, pulling his arms in front of his face, knees against his stomach. He was still coughing but it seemed less bad now.

He knelt and touched the boy's arm. The kid swung wildly, almost catching his chin. He grabbed the kid's arms. “Hey, you're safe. Cool it.” Bright blue eyes caught his from under the arm he still held firmly.

“Didn't need your help!” The kid spat, trying unsuccessfully to free his arm. 

“I can see that. Wha'cher name, kid?” 

He pulled again without answering.

“Kid, I ain't letting go till ya answer me.”

“I ain't no damn kid! Let me go!”

Charles hadn't lied about this kid's mouth.

The kid was uncurling from his ball, now, to get more leverage to struggle. His face was cut, his eye had a yellowing bruise. He had a fat lip already starting to form. His arms, too, were covered in scratches, some fresh and bleeding, others scabbed. His side had a patch of red starting to show through his shirt.

The kid, now completely uncurled, began to struggle in ernest. It didn't make a difference, he was all skin and bone, but boy was he trying. Now that he'd unwound himself, it looked like they could be of similar height. Maybe he wasn't a kid, after all.

“Stop fightin’ me. I'm only tryin’ to help.” He said.

“I don't need your help!” The boy shouted. “Don’ need anyone's damn sympathy! Let. Me. Go!” With the last word, the boy dissolved into a coughing fit so violent that he let go in surprise. His freedom didn't stop the wracking coughs as the boy wheezed softly, trying to breath. 

“Hey. You, ok?” He asked uncertainly but the boy didn't answer. He thought about going for help but they were in a neighborhood. No one around for several blocks and he wasn't sure the boy should be alone that long.

So, he sat in front of him and waited. It was more than ten minutes before the wheezing slowed and the boy was able to draw in a few shallow breaths. Sweat slicked the boy’s skin, which somehow looked paler now than before. It made the cuts and bruises stand out vividly on his skin. The boy leaned against the alley wall, still trying to pull in air, but at least not coughing anymore.

“Go. Away.” He wheezed between breaths. 

“You always this damn stubborn when someone tryin’ to be your friend?”

“Ain't trying ta be my friend. You knew that guy. Trying to pull somethin’.” The boy was still wheezing but it was quieter now. He was pulling in steady breaths.

“Charles ain't my friend. He tried push me around, so I socked him in the jaw. My name's Bucky. What's yours?”

“Ain't your name. He called you James.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Anyone tell ya you're a suspicious shit? My name's James Barnes. My friends call me Bucky.”

“Why?”

He glared at the boy. “Why should' I tell ya? You haven't even said your name.”

“Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“My sister's been callin’ me Bucky since they was little. It stuck. Where's yer Ma? You need cleaned up.”

“She works tonight.”

“Fine. Your Pa?”

“Died.”

“Geez. Ok, fine. Your comin’ to my place.”

He stood and grabbed Steve's arm, hauling him up. “I tol’ you. Don't need no damn sympat-.” A new coughing fit stopped his words. Steve leaned heavily on the wall. This fit was much shorter than the first but he looked so damn tired.

“Come on, Steve.” 

The boy hesitated but eventually did follow. His apartment wasn't far. It turned out to be the apartment straight across the street from Steve's. He unlocked the door and pointed to the kitchen table for Steve to sit, before going to dig the iodine out of the cabinet. 

Steve sat perched on the edge of the table when he returned. He was less pale now and at least breathing normally. He frowned when he saw the iodine. “I don't-”

“Hush.” He said dabbing some on one of the fresh cuts on Steve's arm. The boy hissed but held still. His arms were relatively free of new cuts but the fresh cuts had bled a lot. “How old are you, Steve?” He asked as he worked.

“Eleven. You?”

“Twelve.” He replied. It was hard to believe this tiny, frail boy could only be a year younger than him.

Once his arms were cleaned, he cleaned the cut under his eye. Steve moved that time. He clapped a hand on the boy's boney shoulder and kept working. 

He stepped back to look Steve over. The patch of blood on his side was the only thing he hadn't cleaned. He pointed at it. 

Steve shot him a look but began unbuttoning his shirt. He dropped it off one shoulder, slid the suspender strap off, and untucked his undershirt. The glint of glass from a broken bottle poked out of his side. “Umm. Stay here.” He returned to the cabinets and found tweezers.

“Bucky, what?” Steve asked when he returned with the tweezers.

“Glass.” He said. It seemed to be enough for Steve to understand. He carefully grasped at the glass with the tweezers, careful not to push it farther in.

“Bucky!” A hand landed hard on his shoulder and he jumped. The apartment swam back into view, as well as a very different, very concerned looking Steve.

“I told you not to look at this!” Steve said, trying to pull the sketchbook back. He held tight.

“Steve?” His throat felt tight and dry. “Steve!” He repeated when Steve tried again to pull the book from him

“What, Buck?” Steve sounded exasperated.

“This was you.” He said, pointing to the drawing.

“Yeah, Buck. That was me. What about it?” 

“I. I stopped Charles beating on you.” Surprise washed over Steve's face. 

“You remember?” Steve asked quietly.

“Took you back to my place. Patched you up. Glass in your side.”

He glanced down at the page. At least another dozen memories jumped up, as though all vying for his attention at once. He pushed them back. It was too much, too fast. Like hearing his name again after being the asset for so many years.

“Yeah.” Steve was smiling. “God, I thought for sure you were leading me into a trap that day. I remember your Ma invited me for dinner and then I stayed over listening to the radio, just knowing as soon as I stepped outside, Charles would be there to beat on me some more.”

He stared back down at the page, forcing back the memories to just look. He'd been so thin and weak. It didn't possibly match with the man sitting across from him. “I. How did? You. You got big.” He finally said when no questions seemed to want to form.

Steve laughed that warm rich laugh. “Yeah. I did.”

“How?”

“Oh! Yeah, you probably wouldn't remember that, huh? It was the serum. Stronger, taller, muscles; all the serum.”

“But I thought we were injected with the same thing?” He looked at himself in the picture. Even at the time the picture was taken, it was clear he was starting to muscle out. It was an easy progression, to see how he looked the way he did now.

“It wasn't exactly the same. Or they might not have used the gamma rays, I'm not sure.”

“You were sick? Coughing a lot.”

“Yeah. I had asthma, among many other illnesses. The serum fixed those, though.”

He frowned back at the picture. It was hard to think, like the memories were clogged up in his mind. “Can I keep this picture for awhile?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure, of course, Buck.” Steve took the book and tore the page out, passing it over.

“You just looked so different. I think that's why I couldn't remember.”

“If you remember anything you want to talk about, or can't remember all of it, or something, let me know. I think I'm going to go lay down for a bit before I cook.” Steve told him.

He nodded. Steve stood and, grabbing the sketchbook, headed for his bedroom.

May 11

He sat on the couch in the living room. The soft sound of the TV was playing but he wasn't looking at it. It had been two weeks since Steve had given him the drawing. Every time he looked at it an explosion of memories surged forward. He had struggled at first, to keep them in order, but was slowly beginning to form together the story of his childhood with Steve.

It had been a few days after Charles, before he and Steve had been able to hang out again. They sat on the couch at Steve's house, this time. His Ma was working late, as usual, so the house was blissfully quiet. “It must be  _ so _ nice not having stupid sisters ta babysit all the time.” He said. He was flopped in the couch, legs up over the arms, eyes closed to fully enjoy the peace and quiet.

“You don't like having sissters?” Steve asked. His voice sounded kinda funny on account of the split lip that was still healing.

“Ugh, why would  _ anyone _ want sisters?” He looked up at Steve, who was turned backwards on the couch, legs stuck straight up in the air on the back cushions, his head upside down off the front of the couch. 

“I’dunno. Guess have someone to play with?” Steve said without looking up.

“All they wanna play is Ma and Pa with their dollies. Tha’ sound fun to you, Stevie? Cause it ain't. You play with friends, not sisters.”

“I don't got any friends. People don't like bein’ ‘round the sick kid.”

“Gonna take more than a cough to scare me away!” He said with a grin. “Tha’ why you ain't been at school? Sick?”

“Yeah. Nothin bad. Prolly just fighin’ off a flu.”

“Hope you fight flu better than Charles!” They both dissolved into laughter. Steve's ended with a fit of coughing.

“Why'd ya fight him, anyways?”

“He was hurtin’ a girl. She was tellin’ him to stop an he was laughin.”

“Prolly Sally. He's been sweet on her lately. Sally is scary when she's mad.” he said, remembering her screaming at another girl last week.

“You gotta be more careful, Stevie. Lotsa kids bigger than you.”

“I can't. Not if someone's bein’ a bully.”

He sighed heavily.

He and Steve started hanging out at school. At first his friends were less than enthusiastic about having Steve around but, after telling them how little he valued their opinion on the matter, they let up. Couple even seemed to like Steve's quick wit and dry humor. Still, they commented frequently on how it was weird he was hanging out with a kid a class behind them.

He was standing outside of the school, waiting for Steve. They were supposed to hang out at Steve's house that day. His sisters were both out of town with their uncle, which gave him lots of free time, but Steve was late.

He heard shouting coming from ‘round back of the school. He followed the sound to a ring of kids he didn't recognize. In the middle stood two boys. One larger boy, with dirty brown hair, and across from him Steve. 

The larger boy drew back a fist. “Hey!” He shouted, pressing through the ring of kids to stand between the larger kid and Steve. “Leave my friend alone.” He told the larger boy.

The kid laugh. “Whatcha gonna do if I don't?” And the boy swung at him. He ducked the swing and punched straight up into the boy's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. A kick to the stomach sent him falling outside the ring of kids, who moved to let him fall.

He turned to look at Steve. His nose was bloody, his clothes covered in dust and dirt, but he seemed ok otherwise. “I had that, Buck.” He said, spitting a mouth of blood into the dirt. 

“Yeah, I know punk. Let's go.”

And so, it became known around the school to find Bucky if Steve was fighting. Over lunch, during times outside, before and after school, kids would appear to tell him Steve was in another fight. Depending on how fast he got word, sometimes the fight would end before anyone threw a punch. Some kids Steve fought would run at the sight of him. Others stayed, happy for a challenge, but he was fast and rarely got hit, so less and less stayed around to fight.

Once Steve got in a fight during class and no one could interrupt his lessons to tell him, so Steve showed up after school with a black eye and a split eyebrow as well as what was probably a cracked rib. He helped clean him up in the school bathroom before he went home.

“Hey, Buck, you with me?” Steve's voice pulled him from his memories.

“Yeah, Stevie, I'm here.” He said, looking up to see Steve. 

“Sleep ok?” 

“I'm awake at 6…” he looked at the clock, “15. What do you think?”

“Nightmares still?” Steve asked, grabbing a coffee mug and filling it before sitting across from him on the other couch.

“Outta just call them dreams. Can't be nightmares if it's all you have, can it?”

Steve chuckled. “Pretty sure nightmares don't have a frequency limit, pal.”

“Do you still get nightmares?” He asked.

“Yeah. They used to be every day. I woke up from them so much, I started losing track of the real and the nightmares, but now it's less often. Once a week, maybe?”

He nodded. “Mainly of the crash?” He asked uncertainly. He had yet to ask something Steve was uncomfortable with but it still made him nervous to push too hard.

“The crash, mostly the cold. Sometimes, you falling from the train. Sometimes finding Ma.” Steve paused. “What about you, Buck?”

He hesitated. He and Steve really hadn't talked about Hydra or his memories of it. He know Steve had refused to see his files, while all the others had. “Mostly Hydra stuff, I guess.” He said quietly before he could think too hard about it. “A lot before I was brainwashed.” He pushed a hand through his hair and shifted a bit. “The torture and stuff. When I. By the time I was the Winter Soldier, I didn't really feel things the same. Like, I knew it was me doing it and I wanted it to stop, but I couldn't really feel any emotions about it.”

“That's called disassociation.” Steve provided.

He nodded. “So, yeah. Mostly the torture stuff, when I was still aware, still fighting it.”

Steve nodded. “If you ever need to talk about any of that stuff, just let me know. Ok, Buck?”

He nodded. Talking suddenly felt overwhelming. If the sudden silence bothered Steve, he didn't comment. It was a solid hour before Steve spoke.

“You have any plans today?” He shrugged. He hadn't done much since Steve had given him the picture. He had been more than happy to just lay in bed, or on the couch, and let his mind wander. 

“You?” He asked, more out of habit than anything. He knew Steve had his meetings today.

“I actually took the day off. Not feeling up to meetings.” Steve smiled. 

He couldn't quite school the look of surprise on his face. “The great Captain America calling in? How will the world survive? The press will have a field day. Oh, God.” He covered his mouth in mock drama. “Does Pepper know? I might still have time to hide before the tiny red bomb goes off.”

“Fuck you, jerk.” Steve laughed, throwing a pillow at him. He threw it back as they both fell into laughter.

“Hey, Stevie?” he asked once they settled. 

“What's up, Buck?”

“Do you think there is some way you could paint over this star or get it off somehow?” He shrugged his left shoulder.

“Umm. Let me.” Steve stood and moved to sit next to him on the couch. The heat of his hands warmed the metal of his shoulder as he ran his fingers over the star gently. Steve's hand smoothed down his arm. The plates shifted lightly. “I think I could paint the whole arm, if you wanted me to.” He said after a moment.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Any idea what you'd want?” He asked.

He hesitated. He honestly hadn't expected it to be able to be painted. “Could you just do the whole thing black?”

“Yeah. Like a metallic black or matte?” 

“God, Steve you're such a nerd.” Steve laughed.

“Hey, hey. That's a valid question! There are  _ hundreds _ of blacks. Asking you about the finish is probably the least nerdy thing I could have asked!”

He sighed. “I don't know. Surprise me.”

Steve hopped up off the couch and disappeared into his bedroom, returning a moment later with a small pot of paint and a brush.

“Really? Do you just keep that on hand?” He asked.

“Hush. You like my art.” Steve said with a smile. 

“Yeah. I do.”

“I just want to do a tiny bit as a test to be sure it won't rub or wipe off. It's a special kind specifically for metal, so it should be ok.”

He reached over his shoulder and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head. “Fine. How do you want me?”

“Uhh, turn to face me. I'll do a bit, where it meets your skin, and we can let it dry. Then, if it doesn't work, it won't be visible till I find a new kind.”

He followed the instructions and Steve pushed the coffee table out of the way, kneeling in front of him. The paint had a funny smell that seemed familiar. “Is this the same kind you use on your shield?”

Steve smiled. “How'd you know that?” He asked as he dipped the brush into the paint. 

“Smells like your shield.” He said simply. Steve leaned forward, his left hand resting softly on his right shoulder as Steve carefully painted the edge of the metal with his right hand. 

“There.” Steve leaned back on his heels. “Takes it about 30 minutes to dry and set, so don't brush up against it. Once it's set, you can go take a shower and scrub at it. If it holds, we can do your whole arm.

He leaned back as Steve stood, put the lid on the pot of paint, and went to wash the brush out. He turned his attention to the TV. The news was on. He watched without really seeing, letting his mind drift.

When Steve told him enough time had passed and that he should go shower, he stood to follow the command without thought. By the time he got to the bathroom, he felt more aware. He paused to look at the black in the mirror. It still had shine but not the almost mirror like reflection his arm currently had.

As he turned on the water, he scratched the paint with his fingernail but none came off. He bent his left arm to scratch metal against metal but the paint held. A quick shower later, he had tried multiple ways to scrub it off but none had made any scuffs in the black paint. 

He pulled his pants back on but remained shirtless before walking back to the living room. 

“How'd it do?” Steve asked when he entered.

He turned his arm to show the paint. “Looks good.” He said. 

“Awesome. You sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah. I'm sure.”

Steve nodded and grabbed a kitchen chair. “Sit backwards. Rest your arms on the back of the chair.” 

He followed instructions. 

“Move here,” Steve's hand guided him gently. “Good. Think you can stay still like that for awhile?”

“Lot more comfortable than most of the positions I've had to hold.” He said easily, resting his forehead on his arm. He heard the scrape of the chair as Steve pulled a chair behind him. He listened to Steve opening the paint and getting settled. 

When Steve's hand touched his shoulder, it felt warm and familiar. Steve's hand ghosted across his shoulder, carefully pulling his hair away from his arm and over his other shoulder.

He heard Steve clean a brush, a familiar sound that echoed through at least a dozen memories. Steve's left hand rested on his shoulder, his right hand braced gently on his back, and the first whispers of the cool paint was applied just above where the nerves entered his body. 

He let his mind drift as they settled into a steady rhythm of Steve's weight resting on him when he painted, then easing back to get more paint, then the weight was back. The area Steve was working on was a counterpoint of heat from Steve's hand and the cool of the paint.

Steve's left hand shifted a bit to gently hold his upper arm. He didn't really squeeze or put pressure, it just rested there. As he worked, the thumb on his left hand absently rubbed back and forth against the metal of his arm. 

When Steve moved for more paint, he let out a long breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, shifting slightly until he could completely relax into the position in the chair. He let his eyes drift closed as he settled into the contact. Each time Steve's right hand returned with fresh paint, he could feel Steve's pinkie brace on his arm before the cool touch of the paint.

He had no idea how much time passed being still and relaxing in the closeness of Steve's body as he worked. Steve was silent as he focused. Then, Steve was always silent when he did art. He would speak, if goaded into it, but replies would never be more than a few words, anyway, so he felt no reason to press.

“I'm finishing this plate then we can take a break.”

Steve's words cut through the silence and brought his mind back from where he'd been floating comfortably. “Ok, Stevie.” He said. He'd picked up on calling him Stevie from his memories and it made Steve smile every time. 

“Ok.” Steve said, leaning back. “Stay still for a second. I want you to see what I'm doing.” He heard the rustle of Steve pulling his phone out and the soft sound of him taking a picture. “There.” He leaned back, unfolding, and took the phone from Steve. He was surprised to see thin lines of the silver still visible between the plates. It made the black look even more vivid. “If you don't want the silver showing, I can go over it, but I thought the contrast was really nice.”

“I like it like this.” He said. His voice felt rough. How long had he been silent?

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Stevie, I'm sure.”

“Awesome. I'll do the rest like that. This way we don't have to worry about the plates recalibrating, either.”

He rolled his shoulder and turned, careful to keep his left shoulder away from the chair. 

“I'll do the part on your chest and under your arm, then start working down from there.” Steve said. He nodded. “Actually,” Steve moved to watch his arm “Can you try lifting your arm up, slowly? Might be able to do it while the back dries.” 

He lifted his arm slowly. Steve's hands moved quickly to catch his hair and pull it out of the way. “Yeah, that will work. Do you mind if I pull your hair up, though, so it isn't getting in the paint?”

He let his arm down again. “Pull it up?”

“Uh, yeah, like.” Steve's hands gathered his hair and pulled it to the middle of his back, holding it all together with his hand, “This?”

“That's fine.”

“Let me go grab something to pull it back with.”

Steve returned with a thin strip of leather and a brush. He turned around in the chair again so Steve could reach his back. Steve's fingers brushed across his cheek as he pulled his air out from around his face and over his shoulder. He closed his eyes as Steve began to brush his hair. A quiet hum rumbled up through his chest before he had a chance to stop it.

Steve didn't pause in his brushing. Maybe he hadn't heard. “Still like someone messin’ with your hair?” Steve asked though, the tone sounded much more like a statement than a question. He heard the sound of the brush being set on the table.

Steve's fingers replaced it, gently brushing through his hair, then pulling it all together once more. A few moments passed and Steve's hands moved away but his hair remained pulled together behind his back.

He lifted his arm, rested his forearm on top of his head, and fell still as Steve began to work. Since the charge had been under his arm there were less nerves. Occasionally, he could feel the whispers of chill from the paint but, otherwise, Steve might have not being doing anything at all. He wondered if Peter would succeed in making him able to feel his whole arm. 

When Steve leaned back, he stretched the arm up before returning to resting his forearm on his head. Steve stood and stretched, then flexed his fingers and moved behind him to check his shoulder. “Looks like it's drying perfectly.” Steve said easily.

He turned back to watch the news as he waited. He wasn't even aware of how much time had passed till Steve touched his arm. “It should be dried, if you want to rest your arm.”

“Yeah.” He said, pulling his attention back to the present. “What's going to be easiest for the rest?”

“Do you need to get up and move around first? Probably going to take a while.”

“I'm good.” He didn't want to move around. He was much more comfortable just sitting and following instructions.

“Ok, just sit in the chair normally for now.” Steve instructed.

He turned and settled in. Steve pulled his chair up and reopened the paint. He set it on the table across from him, frowned and picked the pot up again. After a moment of looking, he offered it forward. “Can you hold this?” He nodded and grabbed it with his right hand. He braced his right elbow on the table and settled in. 

Steve scooted his chair closer and shifted, trying to get his knees folded out of the way enough to easily access the area he was wanting to paint. Steve's left hand braced on his chest, his right settled half on metal, half on skin, and the cool feeling of the paint began again. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve said as he dipped the brush back into the paint.

“Hmm?” He replied. He didn't want to talk. He would rather just sit in silence and let his mind float away but Steve was helping him, so it didn't feel right to refuse.

Steve left the brush in the pot and brought his right hand up to gently trace the deepest of the scars radiating out from his arm. The soft touch felt strange and wonderful and sent goosebumps across his chest. If Steve noticed he didn't comment, instead moving to trace the next scar down. More goosebumps spread at the touch. 

He set the paint and brush down and brought up his right hand. He curved his fingers like talons and lined each finger up with the scar it had made. He drew his hand across his chest as the scratches drew out.

Steve touched the scars again. “These cuts line up with this arm perfectly but Tony said there were several styles before this one?”

He chuckled. “You don't want to know, Stevie.” He said softly. 

“I do. Tell me. If you're comfortable with it.”

He took a slow breath before speaking. “They had already created metal anchor points for a previous arm. It was roughly the same style as this one but immobile. I think it was just to check if my body could handle the weight. When they put this one on…”

Steve had picked up the brush and began painting again. He picked up the paint pot before continuing. “This was the first one with sensation to it. They knocked me out while they ran the nerve lines but they weren’t connected yet when I woke up. They had to wedge the arm into the connection points because the fit wasn't quite right. Occasionally, they would hit a nerve line. I passed out every time that happened. When they welded it on, one if the nerves hit the torch.” He shook his head. “When it was on, when I woke up, it was the worst pain I'd ever felt. I remember wanting nothing but to get it off. A lab tech tried to stop me, I think I might have strangled him.” He frowned. “No. He was coughing…” He trailed off, realizing he'd rambled more than answered the question. 

“Shit, Buck. I'm sorry it hurt so much. Does it still hurt?” Steve's nail gently scraped the skin where it met the metal, clearing away some stray paint. 

“I don't think so. But then, Bruce said that, about the body adjusting? The arm doesn't hurt but I think it hurts my body some.”

Steve paused. “How do you mean?” He dipped the brush and continued painting.

“My shoulders and back.” He said.

Steve nodded. “You need a massage, sometime.” 

He shrugged his right shoulder, careful to keep his left still.

Steve seemed to have talked enough as he fell silent after that. He was glad for the quiet. He watched the wall in front of him in the kitchen. 

Steve shifted slightly, partly blocking his view. He turned his eyes to Steve's face, instead. Some things were so similar to the memories he had. His eyes were the same, for sure. That same bright, vivid blue they had always been. His hair was the same sandy blonde. Everything else was different. No, he realized. Even though the face was different, the expression he made as he focused was the same. His brows pulled together, gaze focused, he shifted again to get the right angle for another stroke of the brush. 

He turned his head and was able to watch as Steve painted. He was working over the star now. He watched as the red and silver disappeared under the smooth strokes of black paint. 

Steve shifted as he worked along the edge of a plate. “They got red in between the plates here. I think the silver I have should match. I'll be right back.” Steve stood and took the pot of paint from his hand, screwing on the lid, before walking back into the other room. 

Steve returned a moment later with a silver pot of paint and a much smaller paint brush. He opened it and passed the pot into his hand before sitting. Their knees bumped as he scooted closer. Steve's hand wrapped around his left arm, pulling it gently into a more accessible position.

“Put your arm into maintenance.” Steve said softly.

He did. The pressure of Steve's hand on the shifting plates felt strange. Steve dipped the brush into the paint, his left hand tightened softly, and he started working. 

He turned his head to watch as the silver paint swallowed up the red. “Plates back to normal.” Steve said, after at least a half hour. Steve's hand moved to avoid being pinched as his arm closed off. “Maintenance again.” He complied.

“There.” Steve said, his voice soft and warm. “How's that look?”

He lifted his arm to see. It was jarring to see his shoulder without any markings on it. 

“You ok?”

He must have made a face. “It's weird for there to not be anything.”

“Good weird or bad weird?” Steve asked.

“Good.” He said. It was definitely good. Steve nodded and took the paint from his hand, switching back to black.

He let his eyes close as Steve worked. Steve's right hand moved back to brace lightly on his chest as he moved between painting and reloading the brush.

Once he got past his upper arm, Steve's hand moved to his wrist, turning and moving his arm as needed for him to see to paint.

“Doing ok, Buck?” Steve asked as he moved his arm to have better access to his elbow.

“Hmm.” He didn't want to talk.

“I'm glad you're able to relax. I wasn't sure if it would feel too weird.”

He opened his eyes long enough to see Steve still staring at his arm without looking up at him before letting his eyes fall closed again. Steve was quiet as he worked down his arm. Steve's left hand closed gently on his wrist, rolling his arm a bit to reach another area. The heat of Steve's fingers around his wrist sent warmth lazily spreading through his chest. Steve gave his wrist a gentle squeeze then released it. “I'm going to move around a bit before I do all the little details on your hand.” He said, standing and rolling his shoulders 

He nodded as Steve took the paint and closed it. “I'm going to take your hair down. Everything it could touch should be dry.”

He nodded. Steve moved to stand behind him, his hands untying the leather strip. His hair fell loose over his shoulders. Steve's fingers worked through it, clearing out knots. Steve's fingers moved up to his scalp, rubbing softly. His eyes dropped closed again as Steve's fingers spread across the top of his head, continuing to rub. He let out a long breath as Steve's fingers found a particularly sore spot at the base of his skull.

It wasn't until Steve stepped away that he realized he'd leaned back into the touch. He corrected his posture as Steve moved back to his chair. “Ready to get this finished up?” Steve asked with an easy smile.

He nodded. Steve's hand gently grabbed his. The warmth of Steve's palm soaked immediately into his fingers. With the extra nerves bundled in his hands, he could feel the brush itself moving instead of just the chill from the paint. It was almost hypnotic to watch as Steve worked with slow, careful movements. Steve's thumb almost tickled as it ghosted across his palm as Steve worked on the back of his hand.

“Almost done, Buck.” Steve said, so quietly it might have been to himself. “You’re doing good.” He said, his voice staying quiet.

He felt warmth settle into his chest at the words. It took him a moment to notice that Steve had stopped painting. He looked up from his hand. Steve's eyes caught his and held for a moment. Then he returned to painting as if nothing had happened.

Steve turned his hand and grasped his wrist before carefully painting his palm. When he'd finished, Steve had him turn and twist and raise his arm until he was sure there was no silver left. Then Steve collected up the paint brushes and moved to the sink to rinse them.

He sat, still half floating as he let his arm dry. When Steve turned, he smiled. “Stay there till it's dry.”

“Yeah.” He said. 

Steve put everything away and returned to the living room. “Thank you, Stevie.” He said quietly. 

“Of course, Buck. Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything, ok?”

He nodded, his eyes sweeping over the metallic black of his arm, and turned it so the silver caught the light. It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also on[ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) feel free to drop in and say hi!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing the theme of internalized homophobia. 
> 
> This chapter also firmly moves things into the Explicit tag. You have been warned.
> 
> Translations for Russian phrases are in the end notes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

May 25

He sat on the couch curled up under his blanket. It was too early to be awake, the sky was still dark through the window. Pup shifted against his leg and he rubbed at her ears as his mind drifted.

It had been almost three weeks after Charles before he finally met Steve's Ma. She worked crazy hours at the hospital and was constantly picking up shifts, as well. It had shocked him, when Steve had explained that he never really knew when she would be home. His Ma would sometimes miss dinner, with her work at the diner, but he always knew when she'd be home.

When he and Steve walked into Steve's apartment and a voice called, “Hey honey,” from the kitchen, he'd almost jumped out of his skin. Steve's Ma was a pretty lady, delicate and small, with the same sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes like Steve. At least, that's what he'd thought the first few moments before she spoke.

That had been a day, Steve had gotten into a fight without him knowing and he was pretty busted up. When her eyes fell on him, she squared her shoulders, “Steven Grant Rogers! What have I told you about getting into fights!” She shouted, as her delicate appearance melted away into a presence that filled the whole kitchen. 

“But Ma, he was pickin’ on a girl an’ she said ta stop and he wouldn't.”

She stood with her hands on her hips.

“I won't do it again.” Steve said, sounding exasperated. 

“You shouldn't be tellin’ lies.” She said but her expression softened some. Then her eyes found him. “Who is this?” She asked, smiling at him.

“James Barnes, ma'am. But I go by Bucky.” He stepped across the kitchen to offer his hand. She smiled and took it.

“It's nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm glad to see Steve bringing home a friend. How'd you boys meet?”

He thought quick. “He was talking to a guy I know from my class.”

She smiled. “You boys run along, I just got dinner started.”

He followed Steve down the hall and into a bedroom. It was the first time he'd been in Steve's bedroom. The walls were covered with drawings. He spun on the spot looking at them. “You draw all these?” He asked. 

“Yeah. Thanks for coverin’ for me. Ma hates me gettin’ inta fights all the time.”

“Ain't fights when the other guy don't have a scratch Stevie.” He said with a grin.

Steve threw a pillow at him, which he caught and threw back at Steve. It hit him in the shoulder as he scrambled to catch it. They dissolved into fits of giggles as Steve tried to hit him again with the pillow, unsuccessfully. 

After dinner, he sat on Steve's bed. Steve had math homework and was sitting at his desk. He moved around the room looking at the pictures Steve had drawn. “Where'dya learn to draw like this?” He asked.

Steve shrugged, “Dunno. I just do.”

“Well, they’re incredible.” Steve turned in his chair to smile at him.

“Thanks, Buck.”

Another week had gone by before their Mas got to meet. They had been fast friends. His Ma was more than happy to let Steve come for dinner the nights his Ma was gone. She even offered to let him sleep over if his Ma did any overnight shifts. 

On those nights, they would pull the couch cushions into his bedroom and Steve would sleep on the floor. They would stay up all night talking, then barely wake up for school. 

When winter came, Steve spent a lot of time at his house. His Ma was working in the TB Ward and worried about bringing the sick home on her, so Steve stayed over. It didn't stop him getting sick, but she said he was the least sick he'd been in a winter.

One night, he woke up to a strange sound coming from Steve's cushion bed. Rolling over, he looked down and saw Steve shivering, his teeth chattering together. 

“Steve.” He whispered. 

Steve rolled to look at him. “You ok?”

“C-c-cold.” Steve said through chattering teeth. The furnace was working, the room was warm. He was almost too warm under the covers. 

“Come up here, I'll sleep on the cushions tonight.”

Steve got that set look on his face. He was in for a fight. “N-no your bed. I'm f-f-f-.” He swallowed then tried again, “f-fine.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” He said. Reaching down, he grabbed Steve's arm and pulled. Steve's skin felt chilled to the touch. Was it really that much colder on the floor? “Come on, Steve, I don't wanna fight you. I can pick you up.”

Steve struggled for a moment but eventually he climbed into the bed. “Don't get on the floor. I'm only stayin’ up here a second.” Steve said, pulling the covers over his body. 

Anywhere their limbs bumped, Steve felt like an ice block. He stretched a hand out and touched the floor. It was dramatically colder. No wonder Steve was cold. He wasn't jumping to get out of bed and down to that coldness either.

“Jus’ go to sleep, Stevie.” He said, pulling his arm back over the blankets. 

“No. You ain't sleepin’ on the floor in your own room.” Steve said, his voice set.

“Ain't said anything about the floor, did I?” 

Steve didn't answer. “Go to sleep.” He repeated, grabbing the pillow Steve normally used and handing it over before rolling away from Steve.

He blinked as Pup whined softly next to him. “Need to go outside?” He asked. She leapt off the couch and sat next to the elevator, squirming. He grabbed his phone and followed her. 

On the roof, as Pup ran around stretching her legs, he pulled out his phone and opened the internet. He typed in Steve's name. Maybe, if he could find more pictures from when Steve was a kid, it would help jog his memory. The first few things he'd already looked at. They showed Steve during the war as well as several long articles about his heroism. 

The fifth thing down was a video, he recognized the play icon Steve had shown him when he originally used the phone. The title read ‘Steve Rogers war movie.’ He tapped it. A cinema opening began to play sideways on his phone. He turned the phone so the screen picture was not on its side anymore. The title showed, then Steve appeared in his old outfit that he remembered from the train. He laughed, he couldn't help it, as he watched the recording of Steve preparing for some divisional, fictional battle. 

He made it halfway through the picture before Pup came over to go inside. Back in the apartment, he pulled the blanket up around him. “J, can you put this on the TV?” he asked, holding up his phone. The TV powered on with the same screen. 

“Use your phone to continue.” Jarvis told him. 

He touched the play button on his phone and the picture resumed on the screen. He had to admit, Steve hadn't been a terrible actor. Watching this, after seeing things made recently, it showed its age, but if he'd been watching it back home, in Brooklyn, he know he'd have been amazed.

When the video finished, it popped up another titled “Steve Rogers - Star Spangled Man with a Plan”. He tapped on it. A bunch of dames in short pleated skirts began to sing as Steve appeared and began a sales pitch for defense bonds.

“What the fuck are you watching?” Steve's voice from the hall made him jump but the look of shock on Steve's face made him laugh.

“Where? How did you even find that?” Steve asked, grabbing his phone and hitting the pause button. The indignation in Steve's voice made him laugh even harder.

“Bucky, seriously where?” But he could hear his laughter starting to spread as Steve began to chuckle in spite of his frustration.

He took a couple deep breaths to calm down, then his gaze met Steve's and they both dissolved into laughter. It took several long minutes before he could breathe and another several before he could look at Steve without starting again.

“So. Mr. Picture and Theater star, huh?” He finally managed, still struggling to pull his breathing back in check.

“Fuck. You.” Steve said. “God, I thought I'd never have to hear that fucking song again.”

“Traveling with a group of dames and all you can think about is the song. Typical. When was that?”

“After the serum but before I came overseas and saved your ass.” Steve said easily, crossing to sit on the opposite couch.

He picked up his phone and locked eyes with Steve.

“Don't you fucking start that again, Bucky, I swear I will…”

He'd already hit play, the song resuming. It was an annoyingly catchy song. Steve glared daggers at him until it ended. 

“It's all on fucking YouTube? Of course it is.” Steve ran a hand through his sleep tousled hair. He only succeeded in making it messier. “You're up early, even for you.” Steve said as the start of another picture began.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“First time for everything.” Steve said without missing a beat.

“Fuck you.” He pushed his hair out of his face and turned to watch the show. “Anyway. I've been thinking about seeing how we can fix the other trigger. The Winter Soldier one.” He finished quietly.

It was a long moment before Steve spoke. “I mean, that one is in Russian. Surely it isn't anything we need to worry about?” His voice was quiet.

“You said all of Hydra's files were online though, right? So the trigger is out there. We fixed everything else.”

“I just… You have been doing so good. I hate to do that if it might set things back again.” Steve's eyes were boring into the side of his head. He could feel them. 

“I can do it, Stevie. I'm stronger than that.” He paused to look at his left arm. 

“I know you can, Buck. It just scares me.” Steve said quietly.

“Me, too.”

They were both silent for a long time and the picture was more than half over before Steve spoke again. “Give me some time. I want to loop Tony in too, but then I'll help, ok?”

“I'll tell Tony.” He offered. 

Steve nodded.

When he stepped off the elevator later that day, Tony's music rolled across him like a wave of sound. Tony was at a workbench, facing the elevator, but was staring near the ceiling as his fingers worked on something out of sight in the suit. 

He walked over and pulled his chair to sit by Tony. “Hey! Do you know how to use a TIG welder?”

He blinked, Tony's question throwing him off from what he had been planning to say. “I..yeah. I mean, I'm not great, but--”

“I don't need great, I need functional. Over here.” Tony stood, moving to a bench. “Each of these, can you just?” Tony motioned.

He nodded, picking up the torch and set to welding. It had to have been at least five years since he'd last done any welding but it came back easy enough. It was hypnotic to watch. While he had to pay close attention to what he was doing, he let his mind float away.

Tony wandered over about the time he was half done. “Where'd you learn to weld?”

“Hydra.” He said, finishing the weld he was working on. “This ok so far?”

“Yeah, looks fine.”

“You know, if you ever have busy work like this, I don't mind helping.” He said.

“You better be careful, I might take you up on that.” Tony said, starting to wander back to what he'd been working on.

“Tony.” He said. Tony stopped and turned. “Steve wanted me to give you a heads up that we’ll be working on the Winter Soldier trigger soon.”

“Really? I just assumed, with it being in Russian…” Tony trailed off. “Ok. I'll get with Cap and see what I can do to help if needed.” Tony hesitated. He looked like he was right on the edge of speaking.

“Go ahead, Tony. Whatever you want to say, I can handle it. I'm a big boy.”

Tony crossed his arms. “So, what happens,” he tapped the side of his head, “In here when the trigger happens?”

He really didn't want to talk about it. Without thinking, he spoke. “I'll tell you, if you tell me how you got this.” He tapped the middle of his own chest, in the same area where the light glowed through Tony's shirt.

Tony was quiet so long, he thought he might have finally overstepped his bounds, when Tony spoke. “Yeah. That seems fair. You finish that, I'll get a couple beers, and we can have a good old trauma share fest.”

He snorted at the sarcasm that laced Tony's words but watched as Tony headed towards the fridge. He finished the last few welds, then followed Tony over to the couch. Tony passed him a beer as he moved to sit.

“Ok, spill.” Tony said as he took another drink from his beer.

He frowned. How long had it been since the last wipe? Since they had repeated the words? Years. He knew years but past that. “They.” He swallowed, his throat feeling suddenly dry. He took a long drink before starting again. “They would always wipe me first. The electricity, the pain, it would make everything feel distant, fuzzy.” He paused again to take a drink. “As soon as it stopped, they would start with the triggers. I. If I wasn't disoriented from the wipe, I could fight it for awhile. I think that's why it got so long, why they would wipe me first.” Tony passed him another bottle, he had brought the empty one to his mouth. “The first few words I’m still completely aware, able to speak and fight. My arm recalibrates to prepare for whatever is coming. Then, it's like falling from the train again. Once it's done,” Tony passed him another bottle. When had he drank the last one? “I’m aware of what's happening. I can see and hear it all but it's like watching a picture. No matter how much I scream and fight, I can't change the outcome or make it stop. I'm just trapped.”

Tony nodded. “Since Bruce is out star gazing, we can't ask him, but I think that you being able to fight it, even if it doesn't change things, is a positive.”

He shrugged. “Alright, your turn.” He said, ready for the distraction.

Tony leaned back on the couch and took a long drink before starting. “So, I guess to start, I should mention that, previously, Stark Industries, that _I_ , was a weapons manufacturer.”

“Like Howard.” He said.

A muscle in Tony's jaw jumped. He immediately fell silent.

“In 2008, I was in Afghanistan demoing a new missile. I was in a transport and it got attacked. All of the people with me got killed. By my own tech. I was the target, but once they realized who I was... They wanted me to build them the missile. I told them no. They didn't like that, tortured me for awhile. Finally, I told them I would. Myself and another man, Yinsen, we would build it. Instead, I built the first prototype arc reactor.” He tapped his chest, “and the first Ironman suit. I escaped.”

He nodded. He had questions, dozens, but Tony had already gotten upset when he mentioned Howard, so he didn't want to press. He knew enough about anatomy to know that where it set had to be pressing on organs, vital ones. “So, is it just set in there or does it fit down into something?” He asked, hoping it wouldn't upset Tony.

“No, there is a metal tube it sets in.”

“And you said it's an arc…”

“Arc reactor. There’s a big one that powers this whole building downstairs.”

“Really?” He couldn't imagine something like the thing in Tony's chest running a building as big as Stark Industries.

“Yeah. You want to see it?” Tony asked.

He nodded and Tony stood and headed for the elevator. The elevators opened into a well lit room. The soft hum of power seemed to resonate off the walls. The reactor took up most of the room. Power spun through it and it glowed the same soft blue as the smaller version in Tony's chest.

Tony crossed the room and placed a hand on the glass of the reactor. He moved his hand almost as if he was petting the massive structure. He crossed the room as well and brought his hand up to touch the glass. He could feel the power coursing just on the other side.

“Tony, this is incredible.” He said, looking up at the mechanics that filled the room. 

“It's got enough to power New York three times over. I've been tinkering to increase that.”

“And _this_ is the same as _that_?” He asked, pointing at Tony's chest. He crossed to where Tony stood and looked closely. Tony pulled the edge of his shirt up. Past the front cover, he could see the same spin of power in the device. 

“So, you turned _this_ ,” he touched the massive reactor, “into something like _that_ ,” he pointed towards Tony's chest, “in a cave in Afghanistan?”

“Basically.”

“Jesus, Tony.” He breathed. “Not even Howard could have managed that.”

Tony smiled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Fucking right he couldn't. Next time I'm down here, I'll let you know so you can check it out.”

He nodded as Tony turned them to the elevator.

June 4

He sat in Tony's shop. It had taken more than a week for Steve to tell him he was ready to try with the trigger. He hadn't seen him and Tony meet up to talk, but they both seemed to be on the same page when they had stepped off the elevator an hour ago.

The three sat together and had worked out all the details. They were ready to begin. 

“Ok, Buck. Before we start, can you repeat everything we agreed on? It would make me feel better, being sure we are all on the same page.”

He nodded. “We will do the first round of triggers here in the shop. Tony will be on hand if I do not respond correctly to you giving the triggers. Once you have given the verification prompt and I answer correctly, you will give one command to verify that I am the Winter Soldier. Then, if all is well, you will guide me back to the apartment non-verbally. I will sit in the living room, where I will attempt to break the programming. During that time, I will not have anything to eat or drink, or be handed anything that I might interpret as a non-verbal command. This will continue until I am able to break the programming.”

Steve took a long, deep breath. “Are you sure about this, Buck?”

“Yes.” He said, though the mounting feeling of sickness in his stomach said otherwise. 

He moved to the chair in the open area, Tony had asked to run scans while he was triggered. Steve had protested, loudly, until he pointed out that knowing how the trigger affected him might help in escaping it. Tony had grinned like the cat that got the cream when Steve had agreed.

As he sat, he wondered if Steve knew Russian. Did he know the phrase only worked in Russian? He had to. He and Tony had both commented on it.

“Ready?” Steve asked. His brain practically screamed no as he nodded.

The first word hit like a punch in the gut. Some distant part of his mind registered that Steve, did in fact, know Russian. Or, at least, enough to say the words with perfect pronunciation. The second word and his arm began to recalibrate. The third word felt like his head being held under ice water, it filled his lungs until he could no longer breathe. As he said the fourth word, he felt the involuntary pleas leave his lips, “Please, no.”

Steve went still only for a moment before continuing. He could feel himself starting to lose control. Instinctively, he fought against it, desperation and panic clawing at his mind.

He felt more than heard the last word. He was falling. Falling from the train. Falling from himself, into the darkness, locked within his own mind.

“Солдат?”

“Жду приказаний.”

“Встань.”

He was on his feet before he even fully heard the command.

Distantly, like hearing echoes down a tunnel, he heard the handler’s voice. “He's good.” 

Then, in the same echo, Tony's voice. “You sure?”

His handler brought a hand to his shoulder and began to physically guide him. He went easily. He could see them, the way they looked at him. He was a monster. He threw himself against the walls trapping him in his own mind but, as ever, he was locked away, completely unable to escape. 

The elevator opened to their apartment and he was guided to a chair, where he sat waiting for a mission. He knew no mission was coming, he already had a mission. Don't move, focus on breaking the programming, and escaping. He screamed and fought it with every fiber of strength and vitriol he had in him. 

Hours passed. At some point the screaming turned to tears but he was trapped wholly and completely alone. Steve hadn't left the room, staying close, but quiet. They had agreed on this, this was his fight. 

As day fell into night, Steve stood and turned on the light. Steve made food for them both, knowing only one could eat without instructions. Steve sat ate at his spot a few feet away. Steve turned on Planet Earth and sat with his sketchbook in hand but never opened it, didn't move.

When the clock hit midnight, a full 16 hours after the trigger, Steve left the room. He returned a few minutes later with blankets. Steve made up the couch and went to sleep in silence. 

He didn't remember sleeping but he woke up all the same, still just as trapped as before. Steve was not in the room, he could distantly hear the shower. Twenty-four hours had passed. When Steve came back into the room, he could see Steve's eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He'd been crying, hadn't slept. He fought again, with renewed strength, raging against his triggers that so effectively locked his mind away.

Steve moved to the kitchen and began to cook breakfast. He was silent. Steve placed his plate on the table but didn't do more than push his food around on the plate. After an hour, Steve cleared it away without a word.

At noon, JARVIS announced Tony's impending arrival. “Any change?” Tony asked when he stopped into the apartment.

“No.”

“No? No moving, no talking, just no?”

Steve sighed, “Just no.”

Tony looked at him then back to Steve. “Listen, we knew this might--”

“He can still _hear_ yo--.” He started to cut off Tony, who in turn immediately cut him off.

“If he can hear us, then he can see and if he can see, he knows you've been upset and he knows it's on him, so it's not going to do favors to pretend it's fine. I'm pretty sure someone who's been blind since birth could tell you've been crying.” 

Steve didn't protest but just turned his head away from them both.

“This is hard. It's hard for you and us and him but he's in there fighting. It's taking longer than anyone hoped but we needed this bench mark and he will come out of it eventually. He did before, he will again.”

The man nodded. 

“Give it time, Steve.” Tony said, patting the man's arm before leaving then alone once more.

Tony checked in again that night. JARVIS ran a vitals scan and cleared him to continue. A feeling of cold hopelessness began to settle into him. 

Overnight, he woke to the sound of Steve having a nightmare, crying out in his sleep. He struggled to move but nothing happened. Nothing worked. He was trapped. 

Tony came again the next morning, earlier than he had thought Tony was capable of being awake. Another vitals check. Another clear. Steve cooked two plates and Tony ate breakfast in the apartment. 

By lunch, Steve was pacing the apartment, apparently unable to sit still any longer. He kept stopping, looking at him like he was going to speak. His eyes were still red, though he hadn't actually caught him crying. If he was doing it in the room, he was far too good at doing it silently.

The elevator opened without warning this time. “Ok, Cap. I've come to give you a break. You need to go on a run or something.” Tony said.

“Fuck off, Tony, I'm fine.” Steve said, not slowing the pacing.

“I wasn't asking.” Tony said, grabbing Steve's arm as he passed. 

“I'm not fucking leaving.” Steve said, pulling himself up to his full height to look down at Tony.

“This isn't helping anyone, this pacing.” Tony said.

“I don't fucking care. Last time I checked, you didn't get to police my damn actions in my own apartment, Tony!” Steve shoved him back a step towards the elevator.

“I'm serious, Steve. Go run, go hit a punching bag, something.”

“I'm not leaving him. I'm not leaving him alone. I did this, I'm staying, that's it.”

“Fine, stay in the apartment. At least go have a shower. I'll sit in. And, Steve, remember this was his choice.”

Steve stomped out of the room. Tony moved to sit at the table, pulled up a tablet, and began to work in silence.

Steve appeared thirty minutes later, hair still dripping onto his bare chest. “There. Now fuck off.” He snapped.

Tony did as he was instructed after another scan.

He woke up before Steve the next morning to discover a tiny nick in his prison starting to form. At 76 hours, he gained control over his tongue and his fingers. Tony noticed first. When he came in to do his morning scan, it took all his strength, but he was able to flip the other man off. Tony laughed. 

“What's so fucking funny?” Steve snapped. 

“He's coming back.” Tony said. 

Steve lurched off the couch with enough force to almost overturn it. 

He relaxed his hand, then did a peace sign instead. Steve was laughing, too.

He continued to claw at his prison, raging against the walls. Another four hours in, he was able to fully move his left arm. It popped and grinded as it struggled with conflicting information, but he was still able to lift it and wave at Steve who looked ready to cry, for an entirely different reason, at the minimal movement.

At dinner, he stood on tight, resisting muscles and managed to walk to the table. It took him three tries to pull out the chair but he managed to sit. Steve placed a plate down on the other side of the table. He wanted to call him a dick but he knew. Setting it in front of him could be a non-verbal command, so he stretched his arm and pulled it towards him. Eating was slow. It took him more than an hour to force his heavy limbs to work enough to finish the plate of food but it tasted amazing. 

He stood after dinner, forcing the last whispers of the trigger away. At 9:34pm, three and a half days after they had started, he was free. He moved to the couch and spoke. “It's over, Stevie. I'm good.”

Steve shot up and pulled him into a hug without saying a word. It felt strange but the warmth of Steve's body soaking into his aching muscles was more than enough for him to stay still.

“Are you… You're sure you're back?” Steve said softly.

“Yeah. I'm back.”

“Are you ok to go see Tony? He wanted to do one more scan.” 

He was already moving to the elevator. “Buck? You sure you--”

“Keep askin’ an’ I'll throw something at you. Come on, Punk.”

Steve smiled and followed him into the elevator.

“Look who's back.” Tony said when they stepped off the elevator. He was confused why it was so quiet but then he realized Steve was with him, so the music had come down.

“Hey, Tony.” He said easily. 

Tony crossed the room and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Good to have you back. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” He said quickly.

“Cut the bullshit, Barnes. How are you feeling?”

He opened his mouth to argue but stopped. “I feel,” he paused. How did he feel? “I feel weak? Like everything is heavy.”

Tony nodded but stayed quiet, so he continued. “Tired. Relieved…” he trailed off, unable to think of anything else.

“Trust me, we’re all relieved.”

“Glad you and Steve didn't kill each other while I couldn't do anything about it.” Both men laughed and he felt himself joining in. 

“Come over, let's get a scan.” He moved across the room.

“I'm worried he's not all back.” Steve said. “He's just following suggestions and requests really quickly.”

Tony made a noise of understanding but didn't comment. He pulled up the scan on a tablet and looked at it. “Brainwaves are back to normal. He's back. It might be left over to be extra susceptible to commands after the trigger. We will monitor that for the next day or two.” Then, turning to him. “Come over here for a second.” He moved to the chair next to Tony. “So, benchmark is 102 hours. How were things for you? How were you able to fight it?”

“I didn't fight the whole time.” He admitted. 

“That's understandable. What do you think, like half? A third? Less?” Tony had turned away from the table while he waited for the answer.

He thought. “Probably half?” 

“That's still impressive.” Tony said.

“I don't think it was my fighting that got me out. I think it was just time.”

“No. Don't do that.” Tony said, his voice firm. “The benchmark for time being a problem is more than a month, that is very well documented. You cut that down by more than half. You did that. Not time.”

“Yeah, Buck.” Steve said from his spot standing against a workbench. “Just because it took a few days to break through, it was still all on your strength. We are both proud of you and you should feel proud, too.”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

“On that note, I wanted to show you something. This was, uh, yesterday, I think? Yeah, yesterday morning. I was examining it and noticed something with your left arm.” Tony wheeled over so they were side by side. “If you look here.” He passed the tablet, “Right there.” He pointed. “If you watch closely, you can see these micro movements in your left arm. It’s never done that before and it isn't doing it now. My guess is that it's responding both to Winter Soldier you and the you in here.” Tony's fingers tapped his temple. “I think we should do our best to capitalize on this next time. Have you throw all your focus into breaking just your left arm first. Then, and this is where it's only a guess, the jarring of having that arm in your control will have a domino like effect on the rest of your body.”

He nodded. 

“And now it's late and we could all use some real sleep.” Steve said.

He stood. He felt less tired, more drained, but still, the sound of bed after days sitting in a chair sounded amazing.

Back in the apartment, he knelt to pet Pup. She'd stayed right by him every moment of the last few days. “Buck, I'm heading to bed. If you need me for anything overnight, my door is open. Just come wake me up, ok?”

“Ok, Stevie.” He said. He retreated to his room and showered, before changing into pajama pants and laying down. Between the hot water from the shower and the warmth of his bed, he could feel his muscles starting to relax. He hadn't been tired before but now his body practically screamed for sleep. He closed his eyes, letting himself drift off to sleep.

His eyes snapped open. He struggled to pull in air, his breath coming in tight gasps. His heart felt like it might break straight through his ribs. His whole body was trembling. His left arm whirred loudly. He forced himself to take a breath. He felt dizzy. He sat up. He was in bed, in New York. He tried to remember the dream, nightmare, he'd been having but his mind felt like it was full of fog. 

Steve had said to come to him if anything happened. He moved, the shivering making it hard. Standing, he managed a few steps before stumbling. He was close enough that he was able to grab the wall and stop his fall.

He stumbled across the hall and put a hand on Steve's door. It wasn't even shut fully. It swung open. He didn't have to speak. As he entered the room, a particularly loud series of clicks from the plates on his arm woke Steve.

“Buck? Hey, are you ok?” Steve stood and crossed to where he stood.

“Something's wrong.” He said softly. 

Steve brought a hand to his forehead. The heat of his palm seeped into his skin.

“No fever.” Steve reported. “And you aren't cold, like after the serum. I think this is a really intense anxiety attack. I can help, do you want to stay here or go to the couch?” 

He thought for a moment but knew he wasn't making it all the way to the living room. “Here.”

Steve nodded and moved to stand next to him, ready to catch him, he realized, if he were to fall. Once he was sitting, Steve crossed to the other side of the bed. He pulled the covers over himself and laid down. The shaking felt like it was getting worse, not better. Steve laid down and rested a hand on his chest, over where his heart was trying to break out of his chest.

“I know this is scary, Buck, but I promise you are safe. I want you to focus on breathing like I do. Can you hear me breathing?”

He nodded.

“Good, try to follow, then.” Steve said before drawing in a deep breath.

He struggled to pull in air. _Someone was choking him, he couldn't breath_. He lurched up, hands at his throat. 

“You're ok. You're ok.” Steve said. “Lay down.” 

He did. “Try again, Bucky. Deep breath.”

He managed to draw in a breath. “Good.” Steve said, his voice low and quiet. “Again.”

He had no idea how long they stayed like that before the breaths got easier. At some point, he became aware the shivering had stopped. He felt tired and hollow. Steve's hand remained on his chest, gently rubbing over his heart. He should move. He should go back to his own bed. The thought of returning, leaving to return to his room, set his pulse jumping again. He would stay 5 more minutes. Then he'd go back to bed. He closed his eyes and relaxed back into the mattress.

He woke first, sun streaming into the freezing apartment. Steve was tucked tight against his back, his boney hips poking him in the back. They had finally gotten a full night without Steve waking up with coughing fits. He'd finally made it through the worst of it, whatever illness it was. The wind outside rattled the windows and cold air filled the room. Steve scooted closer, a shiver passing through his tiny frame. 

He shifted in bed, trying actively to ignore his dick, which was currently hard enough to pound nails. He'd been taking care of Steve non-stop the last four days and it had left him no time to himself. If Steve wasn't clinging to him, he might have slipped to the bathroom for a few moments alone. 

“Steve?” He whispered. He knew better. Steve wasn't gonna hear him whisper. Especially not after being sick. 

He slipped a hand under the sheets and into his skivvies. He moved carefully, staying as quiet as possible, as he freed his dick from his clothes. His fingers were cool from the chill of the apartment. The contrast against his heated skin felt amazing. 

The first few tugs on his heated flesh brought a hiss through his teeth. He held his breath but Steve hadn't stirred. He took a slow, deep breath and began to stroke himself slowly. He was careful to keep the movement of his shoulders and back to a minimum. It wouldn't take much, not after so many days without. His breath was picking up as the heat already began to pool in his stomach. Just another few seconds. Steve shifted and he went still. For a split second neither of them was breathing. Then, Steve's hand moved from his belly and wrapped around his dick. His heart skipped a beat as he almost came just from the contact.

“Steve, wh-?” Steve's hand started moving. “Steve, stop, gonna,” he panted but Steve didn't stop. 

“Fuck.” He groaned. It felt like he came for hours. Steve's hand continued to slowly stroke him till he was completely wrung out. 

As soon as Steve released him, he rolled to look at Steve's face. He was blushing all the way to the tips of his ears but his eyes were blown. “Jesus fuck, Stevie.” He whispered before closing the space between them to crush his lips against Steve's. Stevie returned as good as he got, cool hand moving up to knot in the back of his head.

They'd been living together for just a bit over a year, since right after Steve's Mom passed, just before Steve's 15th birthday. When they couldn't afford rent in his Mom's old place, they'd moved in here. The landlord didn't question why a 15 and 16 year old weren't living at the church, wards of the state. He was glad to have the money for the shitty place.

Through the years, they'd shared as much as two people could probably share. He'd helped Steve through more fights and illnesses than he could count and, in return, Steve had been his closest and dearest friend. 

But this… This was different. He knew Steve jerked it. The tiny apartment didn't really afford the privacy not to know. Sometimes, in the morning or late at night, he'd hear Steve on his mattress. He was pretty sure he'd been awake for most of them. Steve's asthma attacks had him conditioned to wake any time Steve's breathing changed. Other times, Steve would disappear into the bathroom for over an hour. He wasn't dumb. He did the same shit. He didn't doubt Steve heard him with the dames he brought home, even with the door closed.

Steve's tongue demanded entrance to his mouth. He wasn't about to stop him. Grabbing Steve's hips, he rolled them, pulling Steve on top. A soft moan slipped into his mouth as Stevie's dick, rock hard, shifted against his stomach. 

Steve's hips ground down against him, eliciting another moan from the smaller man. “Fuck. Stevie. Wait just a sec.” He said forcing himself to breathe. His head was swimming.

“No, please. I want…” Steve cut off. 

He took another breath, looking up at Stevie. He looked amazing, cheeks still flushed, lips red from kissing. 

“Want what Stevie?” He couldn't help the purr in his tone, nor the grin, when it made Steve blush even harder than before.

“Com'on Buck.” 

“Steve, I ain't no fairy.” Steve's whole expression darkened for a second before Steve tried to school it. He had the worst poker face. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, Buck. Sorry, I just-”

He hooked a hand behind Steve's neck and pulled him back in, kissing him hard. Steve made a sound of surprise that he swallowed up. Steve's surprise was short lived as his tongue returned to exploring. 

“Thought you weren't a fairy.” Steve said when they finally broke apart, both panting.

“Ain't.” He said. “Just pals helping each other out.”

Steve smiled, his hands exploring. When Steve's fingers caught his nipples, he ground up into the touch. Steve's fingers were still chilly and every inch of skin he touched seemed to burn with the chill. 

“You gonna do somethin’ with that dick or what?” He chided as Steve's fingers caught and pinched his nipples.

“Buck, I don't know ho--”

“Like fuck you don't. I seen yer pictures, Steve Rogers.”

Steve's eyes bulged. 

“Don’ leave em stickin’ out from under your mattress, you don't want em seen.” He goaded. 

“Why were you snoopin’ round my bed?!” Steve snapped. He recognized that tone. Sitting up, one arm around Steve's back to keep him from falling, the other caught his neck again. He pulled him in for another kiss, quicker this time. 

“Vaseline in the bathroom. Go get it.” He said. 

Steve shot him one final glare but stood anyway. His shorts tented out in the front, the fabric darkened where his dick leaked. 

He stripped while Steve was gone. “Shorts off.” He commanded. 

Steve glared, he was going to hear about the snooping later, he knew that expression.

“Heard guys at the docks talkin, gotta start with your fingers jus’ lik’a lady.” He said.

Steve nodded and he rolled over on his knees. Steve's hand soothed over his back. “Wait, you are gonna let me…?”

“I ain't layin’ like this for my health, hurry up, Rogers.” He said. 

He heard the sound of the Vaseline opening, then Steve's hand back in his hip as Steve slid a finger in. It felt weird. There was no other way to describe it. 

“Jesus, Buck.” Steve groaned softly. “You look amazing. Feels so good.” 

He squirmed under the praise. The words seemed to help soothe the feeling of weirdness. “Move, Steve.” He said. It came out far more like a whine than he'd intended, but Steve listened all the same. Soon, a second finger joined the first. “I think it's as good as it's going to be, Stevie.” He said.

He felt Steve's fingers slip out. The rounded head of Steve's dick pressed against him and Steve hesitated. “If you fuckin’ ask if I'm sure, I'll sock you.” He said. 

Steve laughed before pressing forward. The stretch burned but it didn't feel so different from Steve's fingers. “Shit, Buck. So hot, so good. Fuck.” Steve groaned. He could feel Steve's whole body shivering as Steve's hips came to rest against his ass.

“I'm good, Steve, moving helps.” He whispered.

Steve's fingers gripped his hip bones as he pulled out and slid in again. It still felt weird but it wasn't the worst feeling either. As Steve set a rhythm, he shifted. The next thrust brought a groan from his lips as Steve brushed against _something_. “What?” Steve asked, going still.

“Fuck, Steve, don't stop, do that again.” He said desperately. The next thrust hit the same spot again and he was almost sure he saw stars. “Yeah. Stevie, yeah. Just like that, don't stop.” He begged. “So good. Right there. Fuck.” He snaked a hand between the bed and his dick, which had suddenly become very interested in the proceedings. “Fuck, Steve, don't stop.”

“Not gonna stop, Buck. So good.” Steve whispered.

“So close.” He said, giving Steve only a moment’s warning, before his vision went white as he came harder than he ever remembered coming before. Distantly, he heard Steve moan as he came, before his weight fell into his back.

He shifted, holding them up enough to move the dirty part of the blanket out of the way, before laying down, letting Steve rest on his back. He could feel the man's heart thundering against his back. “Fuck, Stevie.” He whispered.

His eyes opened. Had he fallen asleep? Light poured into the room but it was warm, too warm. He blinked, pulling the wall into focus. He was in New York, Steve's bedroom. But no, he and Stevie, the memory came pouring back. Steve jerking him off, the sex. But not just then. Dozens of times. In the apartment, in the park, in the back of the pictures, his hand down Stevie's trousers as Stevie bit his lip to keep from moaning. In one of the SSR war rooms. He struggled to think, too many memories all struggling for his attention. He and Steve. But, no, he could remember women, too. Many women but only one guy. Just Stevie. Only ever Stevie. He wasn't a faggot. He knew that. And that was all in the past now. If only his dick, which was rock hard, would get with the program.

Steve shifted behind him, tightening the arm wrapped around his stomach. The similarities that echoed through the decades were too much. He shifted. Steve made a soft hum in his throat as the brilliant blue eyes opened.

“Hm, Buck? You ok? Time'sit?” He mumbled.

“Yeah. I'm fine. What happened last night?” He asked, needing a distraction. He rolled onto his back, trusting the sheets to hide how hard he was.

Steve shifted to lay on his side, arm holding his head up while his other arm still draped around his middle. Steve blinked hard a few times before answering. “Really bad anxiety attack. Might have had a nightmare or it might be from the trigger. Helped you fall back asleep.”

This wasn't helping. “How do you know Russian?” He asked. Remembering Steve speaking the trigger phrases definitely fixed the problem.

“I know little bits of a lot of languages. Kind of part of the whole Captain America thing. America is a big mixing pot of all these languages, so I want people to be able to speak in their native tongue when they meet me, ya know? The how part, I have a good language coach who taught me a lot of languages but Russian was Nat.”

“When can we try again?” 

Steve sighed. “In a few days. You need to eat and rehydrate and build up your strength before we go again.”

He nodded. He should get up. He knew he should get up, get dressed, and go eat, but in that moment, as Steve's fingers lazily ghosted over his ribs, he couldn't bring himself to do anything but relax back into the bed. He was just extra drained from the trigger. He was staying there to rest, that was all. 

When he woke again, it was to the smell of bacon filling the apartment. He rolled over, taking a long breath and enjoying a smell that was uniquely Steve's before standing and wandering into the bathroom to shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Солдат?” - Soldier?
> 
> “Жду приказаний” I await orders
> 
> “Встань.” Get up
> 
> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky continues to work on the trigger and discovers something he never knew about himself.
> 
> This chapter has some pretty intense period typical homophobia but thankfully it's the last chapter with the sexual slurs! Bucky is improving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! We had some massive storms here last night that got me all distracted!
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> FInally thanks so much to the wonderful [Succubus Kayko ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuccubusKayko/pseuds/SuccubusKayko) for beta reading through this monster of a fic!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

June 15

He threaded a hand through his hair. He sat in a chair in Tony's workshop. Tony and Steve  stood a few feet away, arguing. Arguing was all they had done for four days. He should have already been out the other side of the second trigger attempt now and yet, here he sat, listening to them argue. It had already been more than a week since he'd come out of the trigger the first time.

Steve wanted to repeat the test as they had before, the only difference being that they had more information this time. Tony wanted him to fight. Fight while they gave the commands, continue to try to fight after, and see if, somehow, he could just shake it off without having to go fully under. 

“And another thing..” Steve's voice rose above Tony's as they fought.

“Enough!” He shouted, jumping to his feet. The two men before him froze with the intensity of his shout. 

“Bucky, we-” Steve started but he spoke again.

“No, enough. I'm done. JARVIS flip a coin. Heads Tony, tails Steve. Go.” 

“Heads Sir.” 

“Isolation room. Now.” He snapped. 

“Bucky…” Steve tried again but he turned and made for the elevator.

Tony followed and, a moment later, he heard Steve's footsteps, too. When the elevator doors opened, he stepped out into a floor he'd never seen. In the center of the room a cell, glass walls, round with a bed and table. The door was open, waiting. 

Tony had told him about the room several days ago, before the arguing began. The room had 24 hour scans and could completely isolate him from anything external. It meant he didn't have to stay sitting. He could move, eat, sleep in a bed, all while under the trigger. Tony wanted to know if being alone made a difference.

It was the being alone part that Steve took issue with. Steve insisted he needed him there, needed to not be alone.

He stepped into the room without hesitation. If he couldn't fight off the trigger as it started, then any snip of information Tony's machines could register would help.

The lights changed and he could no longer see through the glass. It was jarring but he knew it was coming. 

“You ok, Buck?” Not seeing Steve's face did nothing to help disguise his obvious hatred of this idea. 

“Stevie, as soon as this is done, you need to stay off this floor. Try to relax. I'll be ok. And yes, I am ok now.”

He heard Steve preparing to argue then stopping himself. 

“Go ahead, Steve, I'm ready.”

“желаниe” 

He brought his hands to his ears and roared but it did nothing to stop him hearing the next word. He focused on his left arm, like Tony had suggested, flexing and relaxing the hand, forcing all of his focus on it.

It seemed to work, each word physically hurt, but he was able to continue using his arm. Just one word left. He'd beat it.

“грузовой вагон”

Then he was falling. Falling away from the white light of the room, away from his body, away from the train. Distantly, he felt the asset drop to a knee, fall still. 

“Солдат?”

He locked his jaw. He wouldn't answer. He wasn't going to respond. He could feel the words struggling to force through his mouth. The longer he knelt, the less the words seemed to try to come, and finally he felt able to relax his jaw. As soon as he relaxed, he felt control slipping away. He scrambled to try to get it back but the door seemed to slam shut. He was trapped once more.

He had no idea how long he spent alone in the room. Food and water were passed under the door and, with no instructions, the Winter Soldier ate without reservation. His body wandered aimlessly around the room while he remained trapped within.

He fought, raged, alone in the silence. He focused exclusively on his left arm. Without anything happening in the room, and nothing else to focus on, he was able to focus completely on his arm, trying to break through the walls that locked him in his mind.

Time seemed to lose meaning. Was he still under the benchmark? Had it passed? The Winter Soldier hadn't slept but that didn't mean anything. All the food ran together, making it impossible to know how long had passed. No one came to check on him. Or at least no one he could see. JARVIS was watching him though, silent, monitoring his vitals and his progress. Reporting it to Tony, probably. Was he watching? Was Steve?

Return of control of the tips of his left hand was sudden and unexpected. He tried to remember what he did but he hadn't done anything different. Once he could move his finger tips, getting control of his left hand was fast. His elbow took more time but he began to work out a pattern. Be still, gather every but of strength he had, and then will just that joint to move. He was able to slowly, piece by piece, pull himself back in control. 

“JARVIS, time.” He finally rasped out, before moving somewhat shakily to the bed. 

“58 hours, 12 minutes. Congratulations, sir. I am alerting Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers. They will arrive shortly.”

He nodded. His muscles twitched and spasmed. He wasn't sure he was completely back yet but back enough to talk and move. That was good enough. When the door slid open and Tony entered, he stood again. 

Tony pulled him into a one arm hug. “58 hours?! Look at you go. Was it easier in here? You didn't even give your compliance phrase.” 

“I don't know if it was easier or if I'm just figuring it out.” He said, his voice felt rough. 

“Next time in the apartment, then. Did the left arm thing work? I saw you wiggling your fingers and making a fist a few hours ago.”

“Yeah. I think it helped.”

The door opened again and Steve stepped through, wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt. Steve crossed the room and pulled him into a hug. He returned it, dropping his head down to Steve's shoulder. A flood of memories washed over him but he was too tired to try to listen to any of them.

“Buck, I'm so proud of you! This is what, half the time it took last time? That's amazing! How do you feel?”

“Tired.” He said.

Steve nodded, started to guide him out of the room. “Wait.” Tony said. “Before you go, let's check and see how he handles an order.”

Steve nodded, “That ok, Buck?”

“Yeah.” 

Steve stepped back. “Go sit down.” His voice was firm, expression set.

His body immediately started to try and move but he tensed and held it until the feeling passed. 

“Good.” Steve said with a smile.

“Tony, you get some rest too.” He called as Steve guided him to the elevator.

He felt relieved to be back in the apartment. Pup knocked him on his ass when he knelt to pet her. He wasn't sure if he or Steve laughed first but once they started neither could stop till tears streamed down their faces.

When Pup finally let him up, he stood. “I'm going to shower. What time is it?” 

“Midnight.” He nodded, heading back to his room. 

He turned the water up as hot as he could stand before stepping in. The last few tremors seemed to have passed, leaving him feeling hollow. His eyes closed and more memories floated forward. Since remembering their first time, it seemed the flood of memories was unending. 

They were sitting in the back of the picture theater. It was the middle of a work day and they had the place to themselves. Steve had been worked up all day over something, some fight he'd prevented Stevie getting into. Halfway through the picture, he slid a hand across Steve's leg, his fingers skirting over Steve's dick. Steve had almost come up out of his seat. He kept rubbing and teasing till Steve had to go to the bathroom to finish off, he'd been so worked up.

That night, when they got home, Steve had ordered him to stand in the middle of the living room. He'd complied, more curious than anything. Steve had stripped him down and sucked him off. 

He felt his dick filling at the memory. He grasped his dick with his left hand before letting his mind focus on the feeling of Steve's mouth over him. He was so focused on the memory, his own orgasm took him by surprise as he came hard. Once his legs felt stable again, he dried off and pulled on some pajama pants.

Steve was not in the living room when he got a glass of water. Before he could let himself think about it too hard, he pushed the door to Steve's bedroom open. Steve was sitting in bed, knees drawn up, sketching something. Steve paused when he entered the room. “Hey, Buck. Come on in. You doing ok?” He nodded before moving over to sit on the bed. “I'm really proud of how good you did, Buck.” Steve said quietly. “Was it easier this time?”

“Not sure if it’s easier or I just figured it out.”

Steve was quiet for several long minutes. “You know you don't have to be having an anxiety attack or freezing to sleep here, Buck. You can whenever you want to.”

“We did that a lot as kids.” He said.

Something flickered across Steve's face but it was gone before he could place it. It was a moment before Steve answered. “Yeah, we did. I honestly think that's the only reason I didn't succumb to some illness. You're the reason I'm still alive.”

“You were sick a lot back then.”

“I wasn't just sick, Buck. I was dying.”

“Don't say stuff like that.” He said quietly.

“I'm not just saying it, Buck. It was true. I died twice when I was born. Do you remember me telling you that? The last doctor Ma took me to before she died said if I lived to see 16, he'd eat his degree and retire. I was living on borrowed time, Buck. I always was.”

“You told me this before. I was mad.”

“I waited to tell you till my 19th. You were mad I didn't tell you sooner.”

He nodded, the memory returning as Steve mentioned it.

“I'm probably going to try to get back to sleep.” Steve said after another minute. 

He nodded, stood and pulled the sheets back on the side of the bed he'd been sitting on. He hadn't realized how tired he was until he stretched out on the bed. He felt like he could sleep for a week. He pulled the pillow into a comfortable position. “Night, Stevie.

“Night, Buck.”

June 25

It had been more than a week since he'd come out of the last trigger and he had no idea when they would get to do it again. He'd agreed to wait till Tony got back from his trip. Since Tony's trips normally lasted three days, at most, he hadn't given it a second thought when he'd agreed. Now, more than five days later, he was getting frustrated. If he had known it was a vacation with Pepper, he'd have told Tony exactly where to shove it.

He sat in his bed. He had intended to get up already but couldn't quite find the motivation yet, though the smell of Steve cooking was wafting under his door. 

Pup had, in the last few days, discovered she, too, could go under blankets like people. She had burrowed under his blanket and was curled against his leg, sleeping soundly.

He slowly extracted himself from the sheets, so he didn't disturb her, before heading to the shower. Freshly shaved and washed, he headed for the kitchen. “Morning.” He said.

“Hey, Buck. Sleep well?” Steve asked. 

“Ehh. You beat me out here, so couldn't be terrible.” His dreams seemed to have settled into a fifty-fifty mix of horrible nightmares and dreaming of sex with Steve, both in the past and present. Steve didn't need to know that. “Thanks.” He said as Steve passed him the plate. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Before you even fucking ask, no, I haven't heard from Tony. Yes, I know he's been gone longer than you wanted. No, I have no clue when he will be back.”

“Asshole.” He muttered as Steve descended into laughter. “I  _ was _ going to ask if you slept well but I guess I won't, since you seem to know me so well.”

“Oh, don't give me that shit. I know that you were going to ask.”

He glared before returning to his plate. “You got any plans today?” 

Steve shrugged, “Probably going to watch the pride parade at noon but past that, not really.”

Steve was giving him a weird look. He shrugged, too, “Sounds good.”

Steve looked like he wanted to say something else but stayed quiet.

“What time is the parade?” 

“Starts at noon.”

“I'm going to hit the gym. You want to come?” 

“Sure.” 

Once they reached the gym, they both warmed up for a few minutes in the equipment, before climbing into the ring. Their fighting had gotten slightly more contact, now that they both knew the other could heal within a few hours.

After managing to pin Steve in record time, for the third time in a row, he called a pause. “Hey, are you, ok? We can just work out if you're not feeling up to this.”

“I'm good. Sorry.” Steve said with a smile.

The next two fights were much more up to Steve's normal level. Steve even managed to pin him three times before he finally had to tap out. 

They moved back to the heavy bags. Steve kept falling out of rhythm and missing hits. After the fifth time the bag almost hit Steve, he walked over and grabbed the bag to stop is movement. “Do we need to go swim or something less likely to knock you on your ass if you fuck up?

“I would be good to take a swim. It's been a few weeks since we last did.”

He didn't try to press Steve for information again until they had changed, showered, and were in the pool. 

“Seriously, Steve, did you have a bad dream, or is today like a bad memory, or something?” He asked as he stretched. “I honestly can't think of a time you've been this distracted since you found me again.”

“Nah, Buck. Everything is fine. I'm just thinking about something but it's not a big deal. I promise.”

He opened his mouth to speak but Steve started swimming a lap and wouldn't be able to hear or respond. When Steve paused after three laps, he splashed him. “Trying to avoid talking, jerk.” He said.

Steve rolled his eyes and splashed him back. By the time Steve finally called a truce, coughing and sputtering on water, he at least seemed back to himself. 

He settled into his own laps. The warmth of the water as he swam was wonderful. He loved how effortless it was to move through the water. A memory surfaced and he paused. “Remember when I taught you to swim?” 

Steve laughed, “God, I was bad at it.”

“When we went to the beach, I was always worried the tide would suck you right out. You wouldn't have been able to swim back.”

“Hey, hey. I kept my head above water. That's what was important. Just because I wasn't born half fucking dolphin like you.”

He laughed. “Yeah, you were born half rock, the way you swam.”

Steve did his best to look offended. “Fuck you.” 

By lunch, he was more than ready to get out and dry off. The warm ache of a good workout had settled into his muscles and he felt content. When he finished showering and getting dressed, Steve was already in the kitchen making lunch. The TV was on but muted. It looked like the parade hadn't started yet.

How long had it been since he'd seen a parade? He could just remember the whispers of the Thanksgiving parades from his childhood. He could remember the feeling of amazement more than the parade itself.

He dropped easily to the couch and Pup hopped up next to him, dropping herself bodily onto his legs and chest. He rubbed her belly before grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch and dropping it on her. She stood, just the end of her nose visible under the blanket’s edge. The other side swung back and forth as she wagged her tail. He reached up and rubbed her sides though the blanket, making her squirm even more, until she managed to completely dislodge the blanket, sending it to the floor. She peered at it over the edge of the couch. He laughed and picked it up, covering her once more after she laid on his lap.

He turned his attention back to the TV and frowned. “Hey, Steve?”

“Why are there faggots in the parade? Aren't they worried about getting put in an asylum?”

“Jesus, Buck, you can't call people that anymore!” Steve sounded pissed. He turned to look over his shoulder. Steve was staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

“Why the fuck not? They are.”

“Christ, I thought with you being out… But, then, why would Hydra care? Ok. Buck. We need to have a talk.”

Steve pushed his hand through his hair, causing the wet strands to stick up at strange angles. “I'll. I'm going to finish cooking and we are going to talk.”

He nodded uncertainly before turning back to the TV. What the fuck was Steve so worked up about? They had watched the fairy across the street get drug out of his home to go to the mental asylum. Maybe you just weren't supposed to talk about it. You weren't supposed to then, either, but everyone did. Still, as he turned his attention back to the TV, more and more fags were queued up, walking and dancing and performing.

Steve placed a plate down next to him on the coffee table and he turned away from the TV. Steve looked, something? Stressed, maybe? Frustrated? He couldn't quite place it.

“Listen, Buck. You can't call people faggots, or fairies, or anything like that anymore, ok? Being gay, it's not a big deal anymore. Not like how it was. People don't get taken to mental hospitals for being gay. Gay people can get married, and have kids, and have the same rights as straight couples now. This parade,” he nodded towards the TV, “Is a celebration of that. Of people being free to love whoever.”

Steve paused. He frowned as he tried to process that idea. It didn't make any sense. He remembered the pure vitriol towards anyone who was a fa...gay. That didn't just disappear. But that was decades ago. 

He turned back to the TV just in time to see a close up of two men kissing. He turned back to Steve. “When?” He finally decided. 

“Umm. The parades started in the 60s and 70s. The equal rights was a more recent change. It was just two years ago when every state legalized gay marriage. It's still not perfect. There are people who still hate it. Parents who disown their kids, when the kids come out as gay, but it’s getting better.”

He returned to watching the TV, it was showing a group dancing together, paused in the street. His head hurt. 

“I'm sorry, Buck. We probably should have talked about it sooner. I knew you were out sometimes with Hydra, then out for years while I was looking for you. I guess, I just assumed you knew.”

But he held up a hand to stop Steve and pointed. A small float was passing by the screen, a perfect image of Steve's shield, but done in a rainbow, decorated the front of the float. “Why do they have your shield?”

Steve blushed. “I. I have been in the parade before.”

He turned to look back at Stevie, who left the statement there for a long moment. “Come on, Buck, after...after everything, you had to know I was gay.” Steve said quietly.

He didn't know how to answer that. It made sense, of course, running back through all the times they'd… But they were kids, that's just what horny teenagers did.  _ But _ something in the back of his mind argued, if that was true, what about the SSR? He pushed that away. It didn't make any sense. He knew he wasn't gay, he'd always known. He liked dames too much to be gay. He'd just been a friend...just...helping. Steve was talking again, he pulled himself back.

“Sexuality is more like a spectrum than when we were kids. They figured out not everyone fits into the same mold. I won't lie, it's a lot.” 

He pulled his phone out and searched all types of sexuality. The sheer amount of results was overwhelming. He backed out a bit and tried most common types of sexuality. The first result was an article on the 9 most common types of sexuality. Nine sounded reasonable, so he left that open before turning back to the parade. “Why all the rainbow flags?” He asked. 

“It's become kind of a symbol for homosexuality as a whole.” Steve said. “Then other types of sexuality have different colors on the flag instead of the traditional rainbow color.” 

He nodded. He knew it wasn't massive information but it felt huge, and uncomfortable, and overwhelming. He stood and headed for the bathroom. His eyes closed, he took a deep breath. Stevie was gay, probably had known it even when they were kids, but never said anything. And they had sex, a lot. And even now that he was back, as much as he'd enjoyed the dames then, the only memories he was jacking off to were of Steve. 

He stared at his blue eyes in the mirror. He remembered the shock of finding them blue for the first time after Hydra. He'd yelled for Stevie, panic setting over him. It was only then that he'd learned Steve had been color blind their whole childhood. All the teachers that yelled at him for bein’ slow. He wasn't slow, he just couldn't see. Steve had hugged him as he panicked, reassured him everything would be fine. 

He paced the small bathroom a moment, then sat on the edge of the tub. He was already freaked out with all the new information, why stop there? He pulled out his phone and reopened the article. 

_ Asexual _ was the first on the list. He read through the short paragraph twice. Someone who wasn't sexually attracted to any population. By the third read through, he accepted that he couldn't begin to understand it and moved forward.

_ Demisexual _ was next. That one made more sense. It had an example included along with it, and he could at least understand needing an emotional connection before being attracted to someone, even though he definitely didn't.

_ Heterosexual _ he only read once. Straight. That one made sense.

_ Androsexuality _ made some sense, though the paragraph included the word genderqueer, which he would have to look up. The next one  _ Gynesexuality _ seemed to be similar.

_ Homosexuality _ . Stevie, apparently. The small paragraph didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. Why wouldn't Steve have told him? If he had, how would he have responded?

_ Bisexual _ was next on the list. It felt a bit like having the air kicked out of his lungs as he read the first line five times over. Attracted to both. 

A knock on the door made him jump. “Buck. You ok?” Steve sounded concerned.

“Yeah. Be out in a second.” He called back. He waited till Steve's footsteps receded before looking back at the article. 

He hadn't been attracted to Stevie, though. He knew that was a lie before the thought even completed in his mind. He could remember Steve doing nothing but existing and it getting him hard. 

He forced himself to move to the next heading in the article.  _ Pansexual  _ had about 8 words he would need to look up but seemed to mean could be attracted to anyone regardless of gender.

_ Queer _ . He frowned. Steve had said using derogatory terms was wrong. Reading through, apparently it had been 'reclaimed’ to be a blanket term.

The last one on the list was  _ kink. _ In parentheses it read bondage, discipline, and sadomasochism. He didn't read that one. 

Scrolling back to to bisexual, he read it again. Glancing back at the door, he quickly typed ‘is being bisexual bad’ and snapped the search button before he could think too hard about it.

He opened the first article without glancing at the name. The first heading read ‘What does it mean to be bisexual.’ He glanced over it but it was just a longer version than before. 

The next heading ‘How do I know if I'm bisexual?’. He read it twice over before catching the next heading, 'Am I normal,’ and jumping to it, instead. 

“Yes, it is perfectly normal,” he read that line twice before moving forward. 

The next few headings he skipped before landing on ‘Who should I tell?’ The hardest person to tell may be yourself. He read the rest of the paragraph before setting his phone down on the sink. He scrubbed his face. Standing, he flushed the toilet to make it seem like he'd had a reason to be in the bathroom this whole time. He pocketed his phone and bent over, washing his face in the sink. 

He stepped back into the living room. Steve was not watching the parade, he was staring at his hands as he spun the remote between his fingers. “Buck.” He jumped up. “I. That was a lot to spring on you all at once. I just. I forget I had a team that helped me process all this for something like five months, and you didn't have any of that, and I-”

He held up a hand and Steve fell silent. “I.” He swallowed hard. “I’m not sure I’m straight.” he said uncertainly. Steve nodded, waiting for him to continue. He opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to push the words out. What if it made Steve mad? Maybe what they had done had only been okay because Stevie didn’t think he was a fag--bisexual, so it was okay. “I think I’m bisexual.” He blurted out before he could stop himself again.

Steve was still for a second, then crossed the living room and pulled him into a hug. He tucked his face into Steve's shoulder and returned the hug. “Thank you for telling me, Buck. I know it's hard.”

When they broke apart, he felt more like he could breathe again. Steve smiled, before returning to sit on the couch. He settled back into the opposite couch, Pup shifting to let his feet join her under the blanket.

“You ok?” Steve asked after a long time in the quiet.

“I think so? Like you said, it's a lot.”

Steve nodded. “I'm here if you need me, ok? Or have any questions or anything.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Stevie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Translations in the end notes!
> 
> Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

July 4

Tony still wasn't back. He was confident he might actually lose his sanity from waiting. He wanted to get the trigger fixed! Not leave it half done. He'd jolted awake at four that morning and, after thirty minutes of tossing and turning, he had slunk off to the gym. Steve had told him he was going to be at a PR meeting all day, so he had no interest in being upstairs when Steve left. 

Late last night, he'd tried to convince Steve to go ahead with the trigger, even without Tony. Steve had argued that Tony needed to be there in case things went wrong. It ended with them both shouting. Steve had finally thrown up his hands and gone to his room, shutting and locking the door. He'd considered breaking it down. He was sure he could but in the end he'd just gone to bed.

He had no clue what time it was or how much time had passed but it felt good to at least be busy. He heard the elevator doors open but refused to acknowledge Steve as he continued to punch the heavy bag.

“Buck.” Steve called. He didn't turn. He wasn't still mad. Not really. But, the lack of sleep and progress made frustration boil hot in his chest.

“Hey, asshole.” Steve pushed him. He spun, fists clenched, ready to swing, but Steve held up his hands in surrender. “Listen, I'm sorry about last night. I know it's hard to wait. I know you're going stir crazy. I have an idea and if you hate it, you can tell me to fuck off and I will, ok?”

He folded his arms.

“I have that PR thing today. Just endless hours of pictures and autographs. If you wanted, you’re welcome to come along. There are places you can be that you could see people, but they couldn't see you, or you could sit with me, I don't care. Figure it might be nice to get out of the tower for awhile.”

He hesitated a moment before nodding. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

“Awesome. Come eat breakfast then we’ll head down and I'll introduce you to the security detail.”

He followed Steve back to the apartment and showered before eating. “Should I wear something that covers..” he flexed his left hand. 

“Up to you but anyone who sees you there will probably know who you are.”

He nodded.

After he ate, Steve grabbed his shield and they headed for the elevator. “You're really bringing that?” He asked, rapping a knuckle on the shield.

“I tried to not bring it once and it was almost anarchy at the photos.” Steve laughed.

The elevator doors opened into the garage. Three men he'd never seen before were standing next to a couple of black SUVs. For a split second, adrenaline shot through his chest, but Steve smiled and waved, so he forced himself to breathe.

“Hey, guys!” Steve called as they approached. “Thanks for coming out today. So, Buck,” he gestured towards the closest man, “This is Joseph. He’s in charge of my security team. Joseph, this is Bucky, he’ll be coming with today.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Joseph held out his hand. Joseph had dark brown hair that fell into green eyes. He was tall, the same height as he and Stevie, and was built like a brick wall. He shook his hand. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“This,” Steve said, motioning to the next man, “Is Roy. He’ll be with me all day.” Roy had black hair and dark brown eyes. He was the shortest of the three. He held out his hand for him to shake as well.

“And this is Caddric. He’ll be with you today, if you're out where people can see you.” Caddric looked ex military. Blonde hair, cut short, and about 99% muscle.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Caddric said, shaking his hand. 

“Ok, Steve, Bucky, you are with me. We can brief in the car, if that's ok?” Joseph said, his tone going all business.

“Yeah, that's fine. I know we’re a few minutes behind.” Steve said, moving towards the front SUV. He followed, climbing into the back with Steve.

“That's ok, the event center is, too.” Joseph said once they were inside the SUV. “So we are entering through a car park, everything after is service entrances. Metal detectors at all public entrances, chains on all personal entrances. As soon as we get there photos ‘til one. Thirty minutes for lunch, then autographs straight through ‘til twenty minutes before the fireworks. We will get you out as people go to sit and watch.”

Steve nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Fireworks?” He asked.

“Yeah, fourth of July?” Joseph said, confusion in his tone.

He turned to Steve, “They’re making you do this kinda stuff on your birthday?”

“No one is making me, I ch… You remembered it’s my birthday?” Steve looked shocked. 

“Of course I remember. Only you would be so fucking patriotic you had to come more than a month early to be born on the damn fourth of July.”

Joseph broke into laughter in the front seat. Steve tried his best to hide a smile. ”Buck, I had no control over when I was born.”

“Don't even try to argue, Captain  _ America _ . Your Ma and I figured it out when we was still kids. It was sheer, unending, stubborn patriotism.”

“Ugh, I remember that conversation. You wouldn't let me live it down for weeks after you found out.” 

He laughed. “Happy Birthday, Stevie.”

“Thanks, Buck.”

“Almost there.” Joseph said from the front seat. “Ready to get worn out?”

Steve laughed. “As I ever am.”

“Why would taking pictures and signing things wear you out?” He asked.

“Because, to me it's just a sea of thousands of faces but to them it's a big deal. I only get to spend a few seconds with each person and in that time I need to make it special, and meaningful, and personal to each person. To do that thousands of times over is exhausting.” 

He nodded. 

They pulled into a garage. Instinctively, he stayed until the door closed behind them before getting out of the car. The familiar chirp of a com on Joseph's ear made him jump. “Yeah, we are here. Heading in now.” Joseph spoke to someone through the earpiece before beginning to walk towards the building. Roy and Caddric fell in behind them.

Inside, the building seemed completely empty. It felt almost eerie for such a large area to be so quiet. Joseph opened a door leading to a much smaller hallway. 

The next door seemed almost at random but, when he opened it, a roar of sound washed over them. The din of what had to be thousands of people talking filled the room. Directly in front of them, floor to ceiling black curtains blocked his view of any of the people. Two sections, where the curtains met, had a piece of colored tape along the edge, one blue, one green.

Steve moved without instructions to stand by the blue tape. He took a slow, deep breath, pushed a hand through his hair, then nodded. Roy, Joseph, and Steve slipped between the curtains. 

Without it sealed behind them, he could see through to the other side. Steve was in a small room, the walls made of curtains. Against the opposite wall was a woman in a bright red shirt with a camera on a stand. Steve crossed to her, shook her hand, leaned in close enough to say something. She laughed and pulled him into a hug.

Joseph slipped through a doorway sized hole in the curtains. A few minutes later, the din quieted until it was almost perfectly silent in the hall. He heard Joseph beginning to call instructions to the people who had been waiting. He couldn't make out what he was saying.

“So, what should we be doing?” He asked Caddric. 

“That's up to you. I'm here for you, and you are in charge. We can stay here, we could hang out where Roy is,” he gestured with his head to where Roy stood, just through the curtain, out of the way, “They are so focused on Steve they don't even notice us, normally. Or, if things get boring or overwhelming, we have a side room with food and a TV. I'll follow wherever you want to go.”

He nodded but stayed still. He wasn't sure exactly where he wanted to end up but at that moment, he wanted to see how it all worked. 

Steve moved away from the woman with the camera. From his angle, he could see the door Joseph had went through as well as Steve. 

Joseph gave his final instruction and fell silent. The crowd cheered and then the din returned. Another woman, wearing the same bright red shirt as the photographer, appeared through the door Joseph had passed through. Moments later a queue appeared through the door. 

A group of 3 people broke off from the front of the line to stand with Steve. He could hear Steve greeting them, getting names, then saw him pose and the flash of a picture. He told them all thank you and goodbye, using their names, then on came the next group.

On and on it went. Men, women, and children appeared through the line. Each new person Steve greeted, got names, took requests for poses, commented on costumes and outfits that looked like his. Within ten minutes, he was tired and he hadn't said a word.

“I don't know how he does it.” Caddric said, giving voice to the exact thing he'd been thinking.

He smirked. “It's just how he is.” Steve was talking to a girl now. She laughed at whatever he said before hugging him for the picture.

He stepped closer to the curtains. He stood next to Roy, only the curtain separating them. From this point, he could hear the interaction between Steve and the man who walked up.

“Hey, what's your name?” Steve asked, offering a hand.

“Trevor.” The man said.

“Great to meet you, Trevor.”

“Thank you. You're such an inspiration. I can't believe I'm actually meeting you!”

Trevor practically bounced over for the picture.

“Nice meeting you, Trevor.” Steve said as the man left.

He made up his mind and stepped cautiously through the curtain. Roy slid down to make room and Caddric stepped in next to him so he was flanked by the two men. Steve flashed him a smile as the next in line stepped forward.

A woman with a young boy dressed head to toe in a Captain America outfit moved to Steve. Steve knelt to the boy’s level, asked the boy his name, and commented on his costume. After checking with the boy’s mom, he shouldered his shield and lifted the boy so they could pose.

He watched Steve's face, with each new person, a new range of expressions played across his face. It may tire him out but Steve was having a blast. He wondered how long they had been there. At least an hour since Steve started taking pictures. If he was getting tired, he hid it well.

A boy, no older than four, ran over and held up his arms for Steve to lift him. The boy brought his face to Steve's ear to say something. A smile spread across Steve's face. “Let's find out.” He said. The boy nodded and then they turned, were walking over.

“James,” Steve said, indicating the child he held, “Would like to know if you would be in the picture.” He looked from Steve to the boy. The boy was watching him with an unmistakable look of hopefulness.

“I. Yeah, sure.” He said, not knowing what else to say. 

The boy squealed and stretched his arms toward him, trying to switch between Steve and him. He carefully wrapped an arm around the boy and Steve passed him over. “Your name is James like mine!” The child said, beaming. He smiled back and followed Steve back to the mark on the floor. 

Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders and smiled. The photographer called “3..2..1..” and the bulb flashed. 

He set the child down carefully. “What do you say?” His mother chided him. 

“Thank you!” The boy called, running back to her.

Steve flashed him a smile and he started to head back to Roy and Caddric. 

“Wait.” The woman who was next in line called. “Could you be in our picture, too?”

He turned and did his best to smile convincingly. “Yeah, sure.” 

The woman who had spoken moved over to them, her friend in tow. “Oh my God, I can't believe you’re here, too! I love you!” The woman said, all in a rush, before throwing her arms around him. His eyes snapped to Steve, who just smiled. He returned the hug uncertainly. The casual contact felt both familiar and completely foreign. A second later, the girl broke away with a shrill squeal that rivaled the one the child had made. “My friend loves you, too, she's just too shy to say it.” She elbowed her friend in the ribs. Before he could think to hard on it, he opened his arms and the shy girl immediately darted into his embrace.

After the picture, Caddric called to him. “Hey, Joseph saw those last two pictures and wants to know it if he can announce you're here or if you think that would be too much for one day?”

He thought for a moment as Steve spoke with and took a photo with the next group. “It's fine. He can announce it.” 

Caddric spoke into the com and a few moments later he heard his name as Joseph addressed the crowd. A wave of increased sound from the group but then things went back to normal.

It was another eight groups before someone asked for him in the picture. More hugs, more handshakes, more names, and more faces, it all seemed to blur together until suddenly no one else appeared in the doorway. 

Joseph poked his head through, “Hey, Steve, got about 500 who couldn't get tickets quick enough. Want to power through?”

Steve looked almost offended. “Of course. Send them in.” Within minutes there were once again people coming through the door. He was shocked how fast 500 went. 

The very last group was almost 20 men wearing civilian clothes but very obviously military. The first in the group spoke. “We don't need a picture, we just wanted to tell you both ‘thank you’ for your service. You two inspired each of us to enlist and we wanted to say, thank you.” 

He nodded. Steve smiled, “Thank you all for your service. You've come all this way, let's get at least one group picture.”

The men all looked at one another before agreeing. Once they left, Steve told Roy to make sure there was enough prints for all of them. Steve moved over to the two women, thanking them.

Joseph reappeared in the doorway. “Ready for lunch?”

“So ready.” Steve said, turning to follow the three men out of the photo area.

He followed Steve through the door and down the hall into a much smaller room. It had several couches randomly spaced around the room, as well as two TVs. A large drink display, with water, soda, and even some alcohol, sat against one wall. Steve crossed to it and grabbed two waters.

Steve tossed one of the bottles at him. His arm whirred softly as he caught the bottle. Steve crossed to him and dropped an arm over his shoulders. He seemed completely unphased about the other three men seeing the casual contact, so he leaned into Steve's side a bit. “How you holding up?” Steve asked quietly. “That was a lot of pictures your first time dealin’ with this.”

“Not nearly as many as you.” He countered, ignoring Steve's question. 

Steve laughed. “I had to start learning to deal with this in the fucking 40s. I have a bit more practice than you.” Steve pulled him over to a couch. 

“Pizza is on its way.” Joseph said. 

“Sounds amazing!” Steve said, pulling them down to sit side by side on the couch. Steve's arm moved to the back of the couch. “How long do we have ‘til autographs?” Steve asked.

“Long as you need.” Joseph said, opening the door and taking five boxes of pizza from an unseen person on the other side. Steve glared at him. “About thirty, forty minutes if you want to stay on schedule.”

Steve nodded before taking the boxes Joseph offered. Steve opened each box before passing him one. “Stevie. Remembering my favorite pizza?” Steve chuckled before grabbing a slice out of his box. The other three rummaged through the other boxes before settling down to eat. The room fell silent as they ate.

He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he started eating. “Bucky.” Steve said, drawing his attention back from eating. “You may want to sit out this next bit.”

He raised an eyebrow and Steve continued.

“It's basically being sat at a table and people bringing you stuff to sign but it's a lot more talking, which can be a lot…” Steve tapered off.

“I will start with you and if it gets to be too much, I'll come back in here.” He said easily.

Steve looked like he wanted to say something but didn't. In what felt like no time at all, they were leaving the small, quiet room and returning to the wave of sound in the larger room. They moved over to the second divide marked by tape. Joseph stepped through. “You sure Buck?” Steve asked, hesitating before going through. “They can and will ask fucking anything.”

He frowned. “I mean, am I obligated to answer?”

Steve shook his head, “No, of course not.”

“Then I'm fine. Stop worrying about me.”

Steve didn't look convinced when he turned away. They stepped through the curtain to a roar of sound. He immediately noticed that, instead of before where individual groups came one at a time, this time only a table separated them from a line of people that filled the room. Two chairs sat behind the table. Steve took one, he took the other. Caddric moved to stand behind his chair. Roy took up post behind Steve's. 

Joseph held up his hand for quiet and the cheers died down but the din of people talking didn't. Steve leaned over. “If it's too much just leave, ok?”

“Fuck off.” He mumbled back. 

“Language! There are kids here.”

“They can't fucki--”

Joseph let out a shrill whistle that echoed through the hall. Everyone went silent.

“Thank you.” He called into the crowd. 

“Steve and Bucky are both here, and can both autograph, but if you're asking questions, those will need to go to Steve. Bucky will not be answering questions at this time.”

If they had been back in the quiet, small room, he'd have argued, but the sheer number of eyes on him was enough to kill that argument in his throat. 

With a wave of his hand, the first few groups came to the table. He heard Steve speaking, though he didn't really hear the words. When a picture was slid in front of him, he signed. The pattern felt easy, repetitive.

Steve spoke Spanish, quite fluently, he registered, after hearing him speak it a few times. He glanced up enough to watch a child's eyes light up as he did. It made sense then, what Steve had mentioned about the languages. 

A few people spoke to him, normally just to say ‘hi’ or to thank him for his service. It felt hypocritical to hear that. Did they not realize most of his service had been murdering influential people? People who could have made the world a better place? Or did they mean thank you for surviving and living to see the other side of Hydra?

Steve slid over another picture. So far, all the pictures had been the ones they had taken earlier but this picture was black and white. He paused to look at the faces. It was he and Stevie. Right before the final mission, before the train. 

His heart jumped into his throat, making it hard to breathe. He signed the photo automatically. 

“Buck?” Steve spoke quietly. He looked up. The room felt tight, claustrophobic. The people were getting closer, crowding in. Didn't Steve realize how close they were getting? Shouldn't Joseph stop them? They were all almost to the table, almost within arms distance, going to grab him, drag him…

“Дыши.”

A shiver ran up his spine and his eyes snapped to Steve. Before he could think, his body drew in a massive breath of air he hadn't been aware he'd been holding.

“Хорошо.” Steve's lips moved as he heard the word. It was Steve's voice. “Снова.”

He shifted, as the word ran another shiver up his spine, and his body again pulled in a breath without waiting for him to initiate it. Steve shifted in his chair and his knee pressed gently against his leg.

“Good?” Steve asked, back to English. He nodded, not sure how he might respond if he opened his mouth.

Steve's leg remained pressed against his as they continued to work.

He was more than a little relieved when the last few people got their signatures and the hall was again quiet.

Steve stood and spoke to Joseph, then turned. “Come on, Buck.”

He stood and a whisper of almost dizziness rolled across him. He followed Steve back towards the quiet room, only distantly aware the guard wasn't following. 

In the quiet room, Steve closed the door behind them. Steve turned to face him. They were close enough he could see the darker blue flecks in Steve's eyes. “You ok?” Steve asked. He opened his mouth to answer but Steve cut him off. “No placating. Real answer.”

He closed his mouth on the  _ fine _ he'd been about to say. How did he feel? Not really dizzy so much as floating. “I think...I got overwhelmed in there.”

Steve nodded but stayed quiet, letting him compose his thoughts. 

“That picture, right before the train. Then everything was too loud.”

Steve's hand slid under his hair and pulled his head forward to rest on Steve's shoulder. He took a long, deep breath as Steve's hand rubbed gently on the back of his neck.

“I was trying to talk to you but you were freaking out pretty good.”

He hummed but really didn’t know what to say. A thought made him lean back to look at Steve. “What about you?” He asked, “You said these normally drain you?”

Steve smiled. “I'm still good. Kind of gets the adrenaline going, you know? By the time we get home, I'll crash out and be a lot more tired.”

He nodded. Was he having an adrenaline rush, too? Was that why he felt like he was floating? He tried to remember what he'd felt like being the Winter Soldier. They said his adrenaline was always high then. He hadn't ever really considered how he felt then. It hadn't been priority, so he couldn't remember what, exactly, it had felt like.

“Ready to head home? We can watch the fireworks from the apartment.” Steve asked.

He nodded. “Sounds good, Stevie.” He said easily.

As they rode back to the apartment, he could see Steve starting to come down. By the time they said goodbye to the guard and the elevators opened into their apartment, Steve looked ready to fall asleep on his feet.

Steve pulled the curtains away from the windows before dropping into the couch. He made coffee, bringing a mug for Steve, who took it with a nod of thanks, his eyes falling closed as he held the warm mug. When he sat on the couch next to Steve, Steve's eyes snapped open to look at him but he didn't comment.

He hesitated for a moment before scooting over ‘til he and Steve's shoulders bumped together. Steve stretched an arm around his shoulders like he had earlier that day. He leaned into Steve's side, letting the warmth of Steve wash over him. 

“You did really good today.” Steve said quietly.

“Thanks, Stevie. It was nice to get out.”

The first pop of color took him by surprise. Steve pulled him closer. It was amazing to watch the fireworks from the tower. They were almost at the same height as the massive explosions of color. Steve started to doze off. He shifted, pulling Steve until he could easily rest his head on his shoulder, his arm around Steve's shoulders.

By the time the fireworks ended, Steve was asleep on his shoulder, his breath coming slow and deep. 

“Come on, Stevie.” He said softly, gently rubbing Steve's shoulder. Stevie's eyes flickered open. 

“Times'it?” Steve mumbled.

“No idea but we both need some sleep.” Steve mumbled something incoherent before standing. When he stood, too, Steve pulled him into a hug. 

“Was good to have you there today.” He said quietly.

“Thanks, Stevie.” He said, hugging him back. “Sweet dreams.” 

“You too, Buck.” Steve said, heading off to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Дыши - Breathe
> 
> Хорошо - Good
> 
> Снова. - Again
> 
> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

July 16

His eyes snapped open, the image of Zola leaning over him so fresh, he was surprised to find himself in bed. Rolling to his feet, he moved to the bathroom to wash the sweat from his face. 

Jarvis spoke suddenly into the quiet. “Mr. Stark requires assistance in the shop.”

“Now? What time is it?” He asked, drying his face.

“The time is currently 3:51 a.m. He needs assistance urgently.” Jarvis replied. 

“Fine, but I'm not getting dressed for his ass. It's too fucking early.” he grumbled.

When the elevator doors opened, the shop was eerily quiet. “Tony, did you finally run out of loud ass mus-” he stopped, momentarily frozen.

Tony sat on the floor in front of his couch in the corner. His breath came in sharp, tight gasps, his eyes wide, and face pale. A hand clasped frantically at the front of his shirt.

“Shit, Tony.” He ran and knelt in front of him. “Tony. Tony, hey.” Tony's eyes rolled to his face, as if only just seeing him for the first time. “Hey, you're having an anxiety attack. I need you to breathe.” Tony's eyes held his. He was at least focused. “In through your nose.” He prompted. Tony at least tried. “Good. Hold it. Now, out through your mouth.” 

He continued the slow prompts as his right hand moved up and gently freed Tony's hand from where it clawed for purchase against the reactor. Once it was free from his shirt, Tony's hand clutched his with a bruisingly tight grip. 

“Come on back, Tony.” He said, keeping his voice soft. “You're ok.” A memory whispered up, through the intervening decades, of one of his bunkmates saying it to another in the barracks as the man screamed at nothing. 

Tony released his hand, only to clutch at his shoulder instead. His eyes looked less wild. He rested a hand on the man's chest. His heart was still thundering. “Come on back.” He repeated, rubbing softly over his heart.

Tony leaned forward until the weight of his body fell against his chest. Tony's next breath set his whole body trembling. Tony was crying. He ran a hand over the smaller man's back, humming softly to mask the quiet sounds Tony was making as the tears wracked his body.

It lasted no more than a minute before Tony, with a deep breath sat up. “Sorry. I just. I. Nightmare.” He said, his tone trying and failing to hold it's normal bravado.

He smiled easily. “You're talking to the King of Nightmares. I expect to be addressed properly.” Then, his tone softening some, “Let's get you up on the couch. Come on.” He offered Tony a hand.

“Of course, your highness.” Tony said, allowing himself to be pulled up enough to drop heavily into the couch. 

He dropped in next to him. “I. You don't have to stay.” Tony said, looking away into the lab.

Even with Tony looking away, he could hear the raw emotion just under the surface, threatening to overcome him again.

“Naw, I'm good.” He said easily. 

Tony looked back. Even without turning, he could see the surprise on Tony's face. “So, you never have explained how this is made.” He said, gesturing towards the reactor.

Tony's expression changed immediately, darkening. “I don't like to talk about what it does.”

“I told you that fucking music would make you deaf.” He said, letting the joking tone return to his voice. “I asked  _ how it’s made. _ ”

Tony paused for a long moment. “You don't want to know what it does?”

“Jesus, Stark, did it rattle your brains, too? You just said you don't like talking about it. Come on, explain how it's made, and go slow.”

Tony nodded and began to explain. He only understood tiny bits of the information but it had the desired effect. Tony's voice evened out, his muscles relaxed, his breathing normalized. A solid ten minutes in and he noticed Tony leaning sideways towards him. Where, when they started, had been several inches of space, now were only a few. 

He leaned back, resting an arm over the back of the sofa. It appeared to be the only encouragement Tony needed to lean against his ribs just a bit as he continued to explain. He'd only ever seen Tony be sweet on Pepper. Still, the gentle weight of Tony pressed on his ribs was comfortable enough and, after the attack he'd had, Tony probably needed the closeness. 

He wondered where Pepper was. He realized at almost the same moment that Jarvis had called him and not Pepper. Tony must have upset her again. Still, even upset, surely she'd want to know if he was facing such bad attacks down here alone. Tony must have told Jarvis not to tell her. 

Tony's voice was quieting, the weight of him growing heavier. Carefully, he eased out from under Tony, prompting him to keep talking when Tony protested. He sat in front of the couch and listened to Tony talk himself out. 

Glancing over at the clock told him he'd been down there for almost two hours. He told Jarvis to let Steve know where he was when he woke up, then settled, sitting with his back against the couch, and let himself drift off to sleep.

His eyes opened as Tony shifted on the couch. His muscles ached a bit, not used to sleeping sitting up. Tony sat up slowly, legs bumping his shoulder. “Morning.” Tony mumbled.

He looked over his shoulder. Tony looked rough, dark circles showed under his eyes. “When'd you last sleep the night, Tony?” He asked softly.

“When did you?” Tony snapped defensively.

He pulled himself up on the couch next to Tony. It occurred to him how almost childlike Tony looked in his half awake state. He had bundled a blanket around his shoulders and his hair stuck up at strange angles. “Probably a week ago.” He answered honestly, stretching his arms across the back of the couch, rolling his shoulders. The movement felt good and worked out a lot of the worst knots.

Tony continued to stare straight ahead. He didn't try to make the other man talk. He was either still waking up or too lost in thought to speak, and he wasn't going to push.

“Maybe a month?” Tony said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I do good. I get sleep but then the nightmares start again and. I. I just.” He could see Tony's hands flexing on the blanket he held around him. He reached up and grabbed Tony's shoulder. The other man let himself be pulled back into the couch. Tony sat just close enough that he could feel the heat off his body, even though they weren't touching.

“So, I stay busy. I tinker and sleep when I can.”

“What about Pepper? Does she miss sleeping with you?” 

He felt Tony tense. “We don't. I mean. We still have sex but. We don't normally sleep in the same bed. I tend to wake up swinging from my nightmares. I've hit her a few times by accident. It's better. Besides, she gets up way too early. Like 6? No human should be up that early.” He could hear Tony's normal tone struggling to return as he played off Pepper's absence.

He wanted to argue, it felt like something they should be working on, not just avoiding. He considered asking if that's why Jarvis had called him last night, instead of Pepper, but Tony's whole body was still completely tense. 

“Why were you even awake?” Tony shifted to face him. “Shouldn't you be sleeping like the dead after the trigger?”

“That was two days ago, Tony.” He said easily. He had insisted on practicing on the trigger the day Tony had gotten home. Apparently the several weeks between hadn't been enough to set him back. He'd gained full control at 46 hours without having to stay in the empty room. If Tony was asking, he had definitely not requested for Jarvis to summon him.

The answer seemed enough to pacify Tony's objections as he settled back into the couch. Tony shifted slightly, closing the gap so that Tony leaned on him. “What do you have nightmares about?” Tony asked, his eyes straight ahead, staring into the lab. “Mainly HYDRA or..?”

It felt almost impossible to speak the first word but once he began the words flowed quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, a lot is HYDRA. Zola. But sometimes, it's missions, seeing what I was doing. Falling from the train. Or sometimes seeing someone I care about get hurt.”

Tony nodded. “Steve?”

He frowned. “What?”

“Someone you care about? You mean Steve?”

He hesitated. He hadn't told Tony about any feelings he had for Steve. Did Tony still somehow know? Then, he realized, everyone knew they were friends, that was probably what Tony meant. “Yeah. Steve is impressive at getting into shit he can't handle.” 

Tony laughed. “So it's true, then? You were always having to drag him out of fights as kids?”

“Fuck yes. On the damn daily. He was already so sick and weak, from everything wrong with him, and he's picking fights with guys two times his size and three times his weight. I was always worried someone would beat him to death on accident and just leave him in an alley somewhere.” He sighed. “What about you? What are your nightmares about?”

He could feel Tony's breath hitch. “Afghanistan and New York, mainly.” Tony said, his voice barely audible even in the silence. “People I care about turning on me. Did I tell you? No.” Tony answered his own question before continuing. “After I got back from Afghanistan, the person I trusted second most in the world tried to kill me?” Tony moved a hand up and began to try to straighten his hair. “People I care about dying and being unable to stop it...” He trailed off.

“So we’re both just completely fucked.” He said with a smile. 

Tony laughed, a quick surprised sound. “Yeah. You aren't fucking wrong.”

“Come up to the apartment. I'll make breakfast.” He said.

“Pretty sure Cap doesn't want to see my face first thing in the morning.” Tony said easily.

“He will get over it. Come on, Tony.” He stood and pulled Tony to his feet. 

“J, is Steve even up yet?” He asked as they moved to the elevator.

“He is currently in the shower.” Jarvis replied.

“Let him know we're coming.” He said to Jarvis, then to Tony, “There.”

Tony rolled his eyes but didn't argue as they rode the elevator up. Once they were in the apartment, Pup tackled Tony with enough force she almost knocked him over. She licked every bit of Tony's hands and arms as he pet her. 

As he moved to start breakfast, he could hear Tony speaking in a soft voice to Pup as she continued to writhe in excitement.

“You can use my shower if you want to wash up.” He told Tony, when Pup finally started to calm down. Tony opened his mouth to reply when Steve's door opened. Steve moved down the hall, nodding at Tony as he passed.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve said, pulling him into a hug.

“Morning, Stevie.” He said, hugging Steve back.

“Jarvis said you were in the lab overnight?” Steve asked. He could feel the heat of Tony's eyes on him. 

“Yeah. Couldn't sleep.” He said easily. “Hung out with Tony ‘til I ran out of energy. Ended up passed out down there.”

“Nightmares again?” Steve asked gently, concern clear in his voice.

He nodded.

“I'm sorry, Bucky.” Steve said quietly.

He smiled. “I'm fine, Stevie. Go sit down, I'm making breakfast.”

Steve did as he said, only after grabbing a mug of coffee.

“I think I will use your shower.” Tony said, before standing and heading down the hall.

“Why do you and Tony not get along?” He asked Steve, once the door to his bedroom had closed behind Tony.

“We get along fine.” Steve said reflexively. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Try again, Stevie.” He said, his voice firm.

Steve glared. “Tony and I don't see things the same way sometimes.”

“So that means you have to get in each other's faces as much as possible? Some things really haven’t changed huh?”

Steve glared again but didn't speak.

Tony stepped back out of his bedroom a few minutes later. His hair was still wet and his shirt clung to him. “You know towels exist, Tony. You don't have to come out looking like you showered in your shirt” He said.

“Fuck you.” Tony said, a smirk on his face.

He made up plates as Tony moved to sit at the table. Steve and Tony resolutely refused to make eye contact with one another as they ate. He broke the silence, “I want to work on the trigger again today.”

Steve's, “Bucky, no.” Was almost completely drowned out over Tony's “fuck, no.” Of course he had to find the one thing they could agree on. 

“Either you both help or I'll get Jarvis to give the prompts.” He said.

“Jarvis don't you fucking dare.” Tony said firmly.

“I wouldn't  _ dream _ of it sir.” Jarvis said as Steve leaned over to him.

“Bucky, it's not been long enough. You need a few more days to rest.”

“I am fine. I wasn't even under two days last time. I want to beat this, Stevie. Please?”

Steve took a deep breath. He knew he wasn't fighting fair but he wanted this to be done. He was tired of being babied. 

“Fine. But if you get stuck longer, because you're being a stubborn ass, then we are waiting a month next time.”

“Fuck off.” He muttered. Wondering just how serious that threat was. “Besides, I have an idea for fighting it this time. It will be more tiring but I think it will work.” 

Tony looked less than pleased but if he had any comments, he stayed quiet.

After breakfast, he cleared away the plates and washed them. “You are sure you can't possibly wait just one more day?” Steve asked. 

“I want to beat this, Stevie.” He said without turning.

Once he was done washing, he turned. Tony sat in his chair at the table still, Steve stood in the middle of the living room. They both had their arms folded. Ignoring them, he walked between the table and couch and dropped easily to his knees.

“Umm?” Tony said, looking at him. “I don't know if I'm awake enough for whatever is about-”

“Shut the fuck up, Tony.” Steve snapped. “Bucky, what are you doing?” He asked.

“Need to be uncomfortable for my idea to work.” He said without looking up at Steve. It felt less uncomfortable than he'd hoped, honestly, but he wasn't going to tell Steve now. On his knees, back straight, head down had been the resting position HYDRA had preferred him in. 

“Ready?” Steve asked, displeasure in his tone. 

“Yes.”

As soon as he heard Steve speak, he started fighting. He focused all his attention on refusing to let himself fall, refusing to let the darkness swallow him. He heard Steve ask the verification question but he kept his teeth clamped shut. He didn't move, he barely took a breath as he hovered, right on the edge of falling. 

He was back on the train, fingers numb with cold as he struggled to hold on. He could feel his grip weakening but he forced himself to remain there, clinging desperately to control. 

He didn't know how long he remained, right on the edge, before he felt it getting easier. He moved his hands to get a better grip and fell, not into darkness, but forward. His hands caught him as he blinked the apartment back into view. He felt dizzy and exhausted. How long had he been under for? Daylight still streamed in through the windows. Overnight maybe?

He stood, his legs felt like stone, heavy and unmoving. Steve was on the couch on his laptop. He slumped over. “Buck? You back?”

Steve sounded surprised. How long had he been out? “Yeah, Stevie.” He dropped heavily into the couch and curled up against Steve's side. “How long?” He asked.

Steve shifted so he could get more comfortable before pulling him until he was nestled safely into Steve's ribs. “About 4 hours.” Steve said softly.

His head snapped up to catch Steve's eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Steve pulled out his phone to show him. Same date, 2:34 in the afternoon. Steve stretched and grabbed the blanket off the coffee table, covering them both. “Sleep, ok, you look beat.”

He nodded, shifting till he was able to get comfortable, then let his eyes drift shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything felt warm and lazy as he woke up. A hand ran through his hair in slow, lazy strokes. He let out a long sigh that ended in a soft hum.

“Sleep good?” His pillow rumbled as the words rolled through Steve's chest. Steve's fingers moved to gently massage his scalp, effectively cutting off any reply, as he enjoyed the feeling. “Your hair is still too soft to be fair.” Steve told him, ruffling it so it fell into his face. 

He swatted lazily at Steve's hand before shifting to wrap an arm around Steve's middle and setting back in. For awhile, they sat in silence. Steve gently pushed his hair back out of his face before returning to rubbing his scalp.

“Doing ok, Stevie?” He asked, turning his head to allow him to reach a sore spot near the back of his neck.

“Better than ok, Buck. Missed this. So much.” Steve said quietly. “I was so worried I'd lost you.”

“I ain't goin’ anywhere, Stevie. Just gonna keep turning up like a bad penny.”

Steve laughed. “Good.”

Steve's hand moved down the back of his head to rub the back of his neck. “Jesus, Buck, you need a massage.” Steve said as his fingers found a knot and started to rub. He groaned, the feelings walking the razor wire between hurting and feeling good. 

“‘Member giving you massages.” He mumbled into Steve's ribs. “Your back. Something was wrong with your back?” He could feel it in his mind but the words wouldn't come.

“Scoliosis. Yeah, it was bent funny. Hurt all the time,” Steve said quietly. “It feels like a different life now. Like watching a movie if it were happening to someone else.”

“I'm just glad you don't hurt all the time anymore.” He said. “I remember in the winter, just trying to get you outta bed sometimes when your joints all ached.”

Steve hummed softly, moving to a different knot. 

“Don't have to holler for you to be able to hear me anymore, which is nice, too.” He said.

“Fuck you.” Steve laughed. “I still think you'd whisper sometimes, just to piss me off.”

“Me? I would never.” He said, his laugher joining Steve's.

When they both quieted, he shifted, wrapping both arms around Steve's middle to hug him without having to stand. “People don't realize it, do they? How strong you were then, too? How strong you had to be. That the serum only amplified what was already you.”

“Buck.” Steve said, his voice barely a whisper.

For a long time after that, a comfortable silence filled the room. Steve worked through each of the knots in his neck. 

“I'm going to start dinner, ok?” Steve said quietly. He jumped slightly, he'd been dozing again. He grumbled and hugged Steve's waist tighter before sitting up enough to let the other man free.

As soon as Steve stood, he flopped back to the spot he'd left, pulling the pillow Steve had been leaning on under his head. He closed his eyes again. Was he this tired due to working the trigger back to back or because of the new method?

If it was the method, it was worth it. If it wasn't, he was never telling Stevie. He jumped when Steve's phone buzzed on the coffee table.

“Who is it?” Steve asked from the kitchen. 

“Nat.” He said, looking at the text pop up.

“Check it for me? Laura is due any day now.”

He sat up. “Laura?” He picked up Steve's phone.

“Shit, did I not tell you? I. Clint's wife, Laura, she's due to give birth any day now.”

He turned to stare at Steve, phone forgotten. “Clint is  _ married _ ? Clint has  _ kids?  _ What the fuck, Rogers?” He demanded.

“Sorry, I honestly figured you and Nat talked enough she'd have told you.”

“How would we have talked? She's been out of the tower for months!”

“She gave you her number. She told me she did.” Steve said.

“I. It's. Isn't it rude to text people who haven't texted you first?” He asked, suddenly realizing he hadn't heard that from anyone, he'd just assumed.

“No, Buck.” Steve's voice softened. “If she gave you her number and you’re friends, that's an invitation to text.”

“Oh.”

He checked the phone. “I think labor might have already happened.” He said with a smirk. The text was a single picture. A woman with shoulder length brown hair, face pale and sweaty, holding a newborn baby to her chest. 

He stood and passed the phone to Steve, who smiled. “Must have gone ok, then. Because of who Clint is, they can't really use the hospital, so Nat has been the midwife for all three of Clint's kids.” 

He returned to the couch and dropped back into the warm spot Steve had recently vacated. He pulled the blanket back over himself before pulling out his phone and typing a message to Natalia.

>Looks like you've been busy.

She replied almost at once.

>>Busy enough.

>Why the fuck did no one tell me Clint was married with kids?

>>Why didn't you ask?

>Fuck you. How was I supposed to know to ask?

>>You mean you're not psychic? 

He snorted at that text. 

>He is lucky.

There was a long pause between texts. He had started to drift back to sleep when the phone chimed on his chest.

>>Yeah.

>>He said you and Steve are welcome to come visit after Laura is back up and around.

“Hey, Steve, Nat says Clint wants us to come visit soon.” He called towards the kitchen.

“Yeah? Sounds good. I haven't seen Cooper or Lila in at least a year or two. They are great kids. Laura is such a nice lady, too.” 

>We are good whenever she's ready.

>>I'll let you know. Gotta go. Duty calls ;)

He sat his phone down on the coffee table and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. He managed to stay awake while Steve finished cooking and sat up when he brought over plates. Steve dropped into the couch next to him and their shoulders bumped as he settled in. 

It felt as if he inhaled, rather than actually ate, as he powered through the first plate of food. He stood and got seconds before settling next to Steve again.

Once he was done eating, he leaned back into the couch and let his eyes drop closed. “You look ready to pass out sitting up.” Steve commented.

He hummed, not able to think of a good reply. 

“Do you want to go ahead and get some sleep?” Steve asked as he leaned back into the couch.

“Time's it?” He asked without opening his eyes.

“Nine thirty.”

“Too young to be going to bed at 9:30,” he mumbled.

Steve laughed before standing and collecting the plates. “I'm washing these, then bed.”

He glared at Steve but didn't argue.

“Come on, Buck. Let's get some rest.” He opened his eyes. Had Steve had time to wash everything?

Yawning, he stood and slipped into his bedroom long enough to switch into clean pajama pants before crossing the hall back into Steve's room.

Steve just smiled at him as he walked in, pulled back the covers, and burrowed under them on his side of the bed. He heard Steve head to the bathroom. The dip of Steve's side of the bed woke him as Steve came to bed. He scooted over and dropped his arm over Steve's waist. Steve rolled on his side and scooted back. He pulled his pillow over and got comfortable before closing his eyes and letting sleep catch him once again.

August 3

He woke up slowly. Light was pouring into the room but he was warm and comfortable. Steve's arm was wrapped around his middle, holding him close, as Steve slept. 

They had worked on the trigger again last night. He'd managed less than an hour and without the extreme exhaustion he'd had the first three times he'd tried the new method. 

Steve shifted in his sleep, making it very apparent he had morning wood. Even when they were kids, it was every fucking day with Stevie. Not to say he wasn't having the same problem himself but at least he had some days he didn't wake up hard enough to pound nails.

When memories of how exactly he'd helped Steve with that all the years before began to slip through his mind, he rolled away from Steve.

Steve rolled into his back and stretched.

“Morning, Stevie.” He said.

“Mornin’, Buck. How'd ya sleep?” Steve asked, rubbing his face.

“Slept fine. You?”

Steve hummed softly.

“I'm gonna make coffee.” He said, rolling out of bed. If he was going to talk Steve into the trigger, twice in as many days, he needed him happy.

“Gonna shower.” Steve mumbled before rolling back over and burrowing back into the blankets.

“Yeah. I can see that.”

“Fuck you.” Steve mumbled into his pillow.

He laughed and headed into the living room, Pup jumping at his heels. Once coffee was started, he took her to the roof to run. He and Steve had been working on teaching her to fetch. She loved chasing after the ball, and catching it, but not bringing it back again. She galloped around the rooftop, chomping the ball as she ran. 

By the time she was tired out and they returned to the apartment, Steve was out of the shower and cooking. He dropped into the couch, Pup clambering into his lap, and stretched.

“You got anything going today?” He asked Steve's back.

“Not much. You?”

“Tony needs me down in the shop for awhile. Then I was hoping we could work on-”

“Don't even fucking say it.” Steve whirled around. His face was set.

“Come on, Stevie! I was so close yesterday! I think I can beat--”

But Steve was speaking over him, “No, Buck we are already doing it every other day, which I'm not happy about, but you're doing ok with it. There is no way in hell I'm not giving your body at least one day to rest in between.”

“Stevie, please?” He spoke quietly. It was a trick Steve's ma had taught him a lifetime ago. Still worked. Steve would quiet down to try to hear what he was saying. It stopped him yelling, at least. “I want this to be over, Stevie. Please?”

Steve was silent. He wanted to say more but knew Steve was thinking. Given time, it at least might end up going his way, so he remained silent.

“Bucky.” Steve's voice was quiet now, too. “I don't think it's a--”

“Stevie, please?” He repeated.

“If you can get Tony to say yes. I know he wanted to monitor it and make sure it wasn't doing too much strain to your system, anyway.”

“Thank you, Stevie.” He said.

“Jerk.” 

He smirked, “Punk.”

After breakfast he headed down to see Tony. He'd asked last night if he could come help with the suit, so he was surprised to find Tony bent over what looked to be the size and shape of a cell phone.

“Tony? Thought we were working on the suit today.”

Tony looked up, startled by his voice. With a gesture, the music quieted. “We are. Just needed to finish Peter's birthday gift, first.”

“It's Peter's birthday soon?” He hopped onto the bench and sat, looking at Tony.

“Yeah, the umm. 10th?” Tony looked to Jarvis for confirmation.

“Mr. Parker's birthday is August 10th.” Jarvis confirmed.

“Huh. What are you making him?”

“You know how his phone is smashed all to hell?” Tony asked.

Had he ever seen Peter's phone? “No?” 

“Well it is, so I'm making him one similar to yours, just more strength so he can't crack it. Look.” Tony screwed the phone back together and turned it on. He then threw it straight up so it smacked into the ceiling before falling with a clatter back to the floor. Tony picked it up and handed it to him. “I was hoping to have it bulletproof but so far it's only bullet resistant. They glance off but it definitely cracks the screen.” Tony frowned. “I've started a second version but I'm having to work on some new components first so he won't get that one till after his birthday.”

“I. Bulletproof? Tony, really?” He said, taking the phone when Tony handed it off. As Tony had said, it looked very similar to his, maybe a bit bulkier but not by much. It didn't seem bulky enough, considering it was almost bulletproof.

Tony walked away, farther into the lab. “So, today, I need your help with the suit. Something is grinding in the shoulder when the shoulder mounted weapons engage. Normally, I'd have Jarvis run a scan, then try to work backwards until I found the problem, but today… Today, I want you to try to fix it.”

“You want me to fix something in the suit?”

“Why not? I know you're smart, I've seen you work on your arm. I'm curious to see what you can make of it.”

Tony made a gesture in the air and parts of the suit began to fly to him spreading until it covered his body. Tony left the helmet off. It never stopped amazing him to see the suit. Tony really had made amazing tech.

“Which shoulder?” He asked, moving to stand behind Tony.

“Left.” 

He placed both hands roughly where the shoulder blade would be. “Go ahead so I can feel.” 

A soft whir raised a cradle out of the suit’s shoulder. He was more than a bit relieved to see Tony had removed the projectiles. He could feel exactly what Tony was referencing. Beneath his left palm, something was grinding. 

“I checked with the armor off, but it didn't make the same sound. It's definitely something to do with when it's on.” Tony said.

“How can I remove this panel?” He asked.

Tony walked him through removing the panel. Once it was off, Tony pulled up a view to watch as he worked. It was evident, almost immediately, where the tray was grinding against one of the metal components. It took another three hours to determine why it only happened when the suit was on.

Tony sat, working carefully as he reclined. “Hey, Tony?” Tony grunted a reply. “After this, can we get Steve down here so you can record the trigger? He was cool with it, if you were.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tony said without looking up. “How long did the last time take?”

“Forty-seven minutes.” He said with a smile. “Getting close to beating it.”

Tony nodded.

It was with an impressive scowl that Steve entered the lab a few hours later. The glare was directed at Tony, who completely missed it, as he instructed Jarvis on what scans he wanted.

“Are you sure about this, Buck?” Steve asked quietly.

“Yeah, Stevie, I'm good.” He promised, settling into a parade rest in the center of the recording area in the lab.

Steve audibly sighed before beginning the phrases. It still felt like being held under ice water. He wondered if that would ever stop. He focused on staying locked in the present, forced himself to ignore the words as best as he could. When the final word came, he refused to fall. He waited for the feeling to overwhelm him, for the vivid flashbacks of the train, but they didn't come.

Hesitantly, he moved his fingers, first on his left hand, then his right. He wiggled his toes and flexed his jaw. He took a step forward. It was shaky, uncoordinated, as if every muscle in him fought against the movement.

“Bucky?” Steve's voice was concerned.

“Yeah. I'm still…” he took another step, this one more confident.

Steve crossed to him, holding a hand out. He took it and used it to balance as he walked. Within another 5 steps he was moving normally. He relaxed his mind carefully but he didn't fall. His mind felt like it was full of fog. 

He stepped willingly into Steve's arms, dropping his head to rest on Steve's collar bone.  _ It was finally done. _

“Well, so much for getting scans.” Tony said. 

“You know, Tony, I know you were really wanting scans but I still feel like you should have agreed we waited. The scans would have still worked tomorrow.” Steve said. He was distantly aware that he should speak up but everything felt too heavy, the fog too thick.

“What are you talking about?” Tony asked.

“We just…” he felt Steve stiffen under him. “He didn't tell you, did he?”

“Tell me what?” Tony sounded annoyed.

“We  _ just _ did this yesterday!”

“Are you fucking…. No! He didn't tell me! He said you were fine with it!” Tony's voice rose in volume as the spoke.

“Damn it, Bucky.” Steve stepped back and grabbed his shoulder. “We need to talk.” Steve's hand firmly guided him towards the elevator. His mind still felt full of molasses. It was so easy to just let Steve lead him. He let his eyes drift closed. Steve's hand kept him centered as they entered the elevator. Once the elevator doors opened, Steve guided him into the living room, then the hand dropped away. It felt jarring to lose the contact. He opened his eyes.

Steve stood, arms folded. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I mean, I think we can agree, quite a lot is wrong with me.” He felt himself smirk.

“Don't fucking start. I'm being serious. I can't believe you! I thought we were done with this, Buck! I thought you stopped the half lies and manipulation when we were kids.”

Words bubbled out of his mouth, apparently with no prompting from his fog filled mind. “You wouldn't let me beat it! I didn't lie to Tony. You said you would do it if he agreed. He did agree, so you were fine with it.”

“Cut the fucking bull shit! You can't manipulate people just because you want something. It's not fair to your friends and it's not right, you  _ know _ that! Just because you're smart enough to pick up on things doesn't mean you can use them to your advantage!”

“If I had been honest, he wouldn't have agreed!”

“ _ Exactly _ ! Don't you think if he and I, if  _ Tony and I _ , both _ agree _ there is probably a fucking good reason?”

“Why aren't you happy?” That question did push through his mind. It slipped from his lips, almost inaudible in the ring of their shouts. He didn't want to yell. It was finally over. They shouldn't be yelling. 

He didn't realize he'd started shivering until Steve moved across the room and folded him back into a hug. “I  _ am _ happy, Buck. I'm so proud of you. But you can't manipulate people like that, ok?” 

He tried to draw in air to speak but his lungs wouldn't work right. He couldn't draw in a breath. Steve's hand guided him back to the couch. “Breath, Buck.” Steve's voice was quiet now, too. That seemed to ease the vice grip on his lungs. He gulped in deep breaths of air.

Steve pulled him to sit on the couch. He borrowed into Steve's side as Steve pulled the blanket over him. Steve gently pulled him until they were both comfortable, his head pillowed on Steve's side. Steve's fingers moved to his hair.

He wanted to settle back into the fog of his mind but there was something he had to say first. He lifted his head. “I'm sorry, Stevie. I didn't mean to…” he stopped himself. He'd definitely meant to manipulate Tony. Steve didn't press. He remained silent, letting him struggle through his fog filled mind. “I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to be done. I wanted it to finally be over. But, you're right. I shouldn't have done it that way.” 

Steve waited a long moment before speaking. “It's ok, Buck. I want that, too, but manipulating to do it isn't right. No more working on it for a week.”

“A week?” His head snapped back up to look at Steve's face.

“If you'd waited till tomorrow and not lied, we wouldn't wait so long. A week will give you time to recover, apologize to Tony, and remember not to manipulate people.”

He wanted to argue but he was well acquainted with that tone. Steve had made up his mind, there would be no changing it. “Fuck you.” He mumbled, letting his head fall heavily back to Steve's ribs.

“That sounds like maybe we need it to make it two weeks.” Steve said. He could hear the teasing in Steve's words.

“One week sounds great.” He mumbled into Steve's ribs.

Steve laughed and he felt himself smiling at the sound. He closed his eyes again, letting the fog in his mind swallow him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!
> 
> This will be a bit different as the fic has been completely written. (All 250k of it). I plan to update completely at random as soon as I get chapters proofed!

August 10

Annoyingly true to his word, Steve refused to so much as talk about the trigger over the next week. After five days, he'd tried to push it but when Steve threatened, with much less laughter in his tone than the first time, to push it an extra week, he let the subject drop. Still, he was excited to try again and see if it had just been a one off. Once could be a fluke but twice had to mean something.

He was up way earlier than he had intended. The sun was just starting to creep above the horizon as he and Pup returned to the apartment, so he was surprised to find Steve awake and in the kitchen. “Morning.” He said quietly but Steve still jumped. “You ok?”

Steve didn't answer. Instead Steve turned, crossed the kitchen and folded him into a hug. He returned it willingly. He was starting to get used to the frequent contact. It still felt strange, like over the decades his skin had simply become disused to contact.

A tight breath brought him firmly back to reality. Was Steve having an asthma attack? They didn't have any medical cigarettes but he could make coffee, that helped too…but Steve didn't have asthma anymore. The serum fixed it. The next breath came more as a hiccup, as a shiver ran through Steve's body.. Steve was crying.

He carefully guided Steve to the couch. Pulling him close as they sat, Steve clung to him, his body shivering as he cried. 

He realized, suddenly he'd only ever seen Steve cry once, during his Ma's service. Immediately after, he'd disappeared completely for more than an hour till he'd found him returning to the apartment. Even when they lived together, Steve had locked the door if he was crying. He realized he also had no clue how to comfort the other man.

His fingers moved uncertainly to Steve's hair, threading through it. He hummed softly, drowning out most of the soft noises that escaped Steve. Slowly, Steve's breathing began to even out. He'd already decided not to ask what had happened but Steve didn't give him the chance. Steve sat up, looking down at the floor.

“Sorry, Buck. Nightmare.” Steve mumbled.

“It's ok, Stevie. You don't have to apologize. I get them, too.”

“Wouldn't have come out if I realized you were awake.” Steve said. 

He knew that was true. “Hey.” He leaned forward till he could see Steve's face. He wasn't crying anymore but the tears still showed on his cheeks. “You don't have to have nightmares, or be sad, or cry alone anymore. I'm here for you, ok?” 

Steve didn't answer. Instead, he stood, “I'm going to take a shower.” He said quietly before exiting the room. It felt strangely silent after Steve's door closed. He stood and got coffee started.

When Steve came out later, clean and dry, he was back to his normal self. It felt weird to just ignore what had happened but he also knew better than to try to push Stevie into talking.

They had both finished eating before Steve spoke again. “You were up really early today.”

He smiled. “Been seven days. Guess I'm just excited to be sure it's really done.”

He caught the flicker in Steve's expression but didn't comment.

“Did you apologize to Tony? It seems like you've been either up here or in the gym all week.”

He  _ couldn't _ be serious. Steve’s expression didn't break into a smile, nor did he laugh. He was serious.

“I am  _ not _ doing that!”

“Then I guess we aren't working on the trigger.” Steve said simply. Steve didn't sound angry or upset, just firm. He glared.

“I'm not a fucking child. You can't force me to apologize. I didn't do anything wrong! If he agreed to something without knowing, that's on him not me. I'll find some other way to test it, if you won't fucking help me.” He wasn't sure when exactly he'd stood up or when he'd started yelling.

Steve remained seated, his voice remained calm as he replied. “If you haven't done anything wrong, why haven't you been down in the lab or even talked to Tony since that day?”

“What are you fucking monitoring me now?” He snapped.

“We live in the same apartment, Buck.” He sounded so fucking calm. “I think you know you owe Tony an apology.”

“You don't know what I fucking think!” 

Steve continued as if he hadn't spoke, his voice still calm. “And the only reason you're so upset about it now, is because you feel guilty for waiting until you knew he wouldn't ask any questions to get his approval. You don't want to admit you used him. So, you are avoiding one of your closest friends until you think he's had enough time to forget, so you don't have to apologise and things can just go back to how they were, while you get off the hook for manipulating him.”

He let out a shout of frustration and slammed his fist into the wall. The hall rung as whatever Tony made the fucking walls stopped his swing.

“Are you done?” Steve actually sounded amused. 

He turned down the hall and slammed the door hard enough he was shocked it stayed together. He paced the floor, unable or unwilling to be still. He _ hadn't  _ done anything wrong. If Tony chose not to ask more questions, chosen to… The word trust stuck in his mind. Chosen to assume… But the train of thought was gone and with it the anger.

Steve had been right. Tony trusted him to give him all the information so he didn't  _ have _ to ask. And he'd intentionally avoided telling Tony the parts he knew would make Tony say no. 

Still, having to apologize made his pulse jump. He tried to play it out in his mind but couldn't find the words. His heart felt like it might beat straight through his ribs.

He slipped out of his bedroom and back down the hall. Steve had cleared away the plates and was sitting with his laptop on the coffee table. Steve didn't say anything as he walked in but he could feel Steve's eyes tracking him. He moved to sit on the couch next to Steve. For a moment they sat in silence, then Steve moved his arm up to the back of the couch.

A wave of relief spread over him as he tucked into Steve's side. “I'm sorry.” He said in the general direction of Steve's ribs. Steve's hand slid off the couch to rub his shoulder. 

“I'm not mad or upset with you, Buck. But Tony deserves an apology.”

“I know.” He said quietly.

He didn't know exactly how long he sat, tucked into Steve's side, before he finally felt ready to go talk to Tony. He stood and crossed quietly to the elevator.

When the doors opened to the shop, the music washed over him like a wave of sound. At least he hadn't pissed Tony off enough to get reverted to guest privileges. Tony was sitting at a work bench facing the elevator. He had a pencil in hand and paper was spread over the bench but he wasn't working. He was staring at the elevator like he'd been waiting.

As he crossed the lab, Tony stood and came from behind the bench. “Finally decided to come back, huh?” Tony asked.

“I. Yeah.” He managed.

“You know, you're the only one in this tower, besides Pepper, with full access down here. That's because I trust you. I trust you not to mess with my stuff and not to mess with me. And you return that trust by intentionally waiting until you  _ knew _ I was distracted and wouldn't ask questions. The justice in all of this, if you'd just told me, if you'd explained how close you were to beating it, and that you only needed my ok to try again back to back? I might have fucking agreed, because I know how important it is to you, and  _ as your friend, _ I want to help you get through this. If you'd just been honest, we could have tested it multiple times, proven it was beat. But instead, you lied to me, lied to Steve, and then avoided me for a week cause you felt guilty. You know, you don't have to lie here. No one is going to take something away or refuse to do it because it's something you want.” He was reminded that Tony had seen every video Hydra made. He knew the exact moment being referenced. “We are your friends. We care about helping you but also about your safety. We want what's best for you.” Tony stopped in front of him, arms folded, waiting.

“I know, Tony. I'm sorry. I was an ass. I shouldn't have manipulated you. I won't do it again.”

Tony's brown eyes held his for several long moments. “Ok. I forgive you.” Tony's whole body seemed to relax. “If you want to hang around, Peter should be here soon to get his gift.”

Tony gestured to a box sitting on the counter in the kitchen. “That's today?” He slowly asked. The sudden shift in Tony's demeanor was jarring. 

“Yeah. I got version two done...when was that, J? Midn-”

“3 a.m. sir.” Jarvis replied.

“Anyway, it's bulletproof now, too.”

“Tony, did you sleep at all last night?” He asked.

Tony's reply was cut short as the elevator opened.

“Mr. Parker.” Tony said turning to grab the box. “Happy Birthday.” 

“Hey, Mr. Stark. Thank you. You really didn't have to do anything.” Peter was blushing a bit, the tips of his ears pink.

“Happy Birthday, Peter.” He said as the boy walked over. 

“Thanks, Bucky.” Peter smiled.

Tony passed the box over and Peter opened it. “Oh my God! Mr. Stark, no, I can't accept this, it’s too much.” Peter held the phone like it might shatter just sitting in his hand.

“Yes, you can. I made it specifically for you. In fact, no one else can use it without your permission. It's locked to you specifically. And.” Tony took the phone and threw it into the ceiling, then picked it up once it landed on the floor. “It is, hopefully, strong enough to not end up like your last one.” He passed the phone back to Peter, who turned it over in his hands. 

“Mr. Stark, this is incredible.” Peter whispered. “I... I don't know what to-”

Tony cut across him. “It's bulletproof but don't go giving it a reason to be. I also integrated your suits A.I. into it. I know you said you couldn't stay long but come back when you can. I think I figured out a way to use that mesh to pick up the electrical pulses, like we were talking about last week.”

“What? Really?!” Peter's eyes lit up. “I. I was just throwing out ideas, I didn't think it would. How did you? When?” Peter's mouth opened and closed a few more times but no more words came out.

Tony laughed. “Go get your other stuff done. I won't touch it till you get back.” 

“Ok, thank you so much, Mr. Stark. I promise I'll hurry!” And Peter shot back over to the elevator.

“Mesh?” He asked once Peter left the lab.

“Yeah. It's an idea he had for helping get feeling in your arm. Really clever, actually.” Tony walked over to one of the benches and pulled out a piece of paper. “It involves making a very fine mesh, that would fit in the back of the panels, and connect to the existing nerves. The mesh would receive an electrical charge that would transmit contact to the plates, then to the existing nerves to allow feeling.”

He took the paper Tony passed over. On it was a drawing of the back of his shoulder plate. Across it, a fine almost, web like mesh, covered the plate. Down the sides of the paper, Tony had written in dozens of formulas and equations that went right over his head but it seemed interesting.

“This way, you could be awake for most of it. There would be some changes to the nerves you'd probably want to be out for but it would be minimally invasive.”

He nodded. “Hey, did you get any scans during the trigger?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Tony grabbed a tablet. “So, this,” he pulled up a brain scan, “Was when you were in isolation. If you focus on hippocampal activity, when the final word is given, it drops to almost zero. If you look at the scan overall, you can see a massive jump in the limbic system. Those changes, together, mark the movement into the Winter Soldier. Now, if we look at last week,” he pulled up a second scan, next to the first, “You still see the amygdala flare up. That's, like, the fight or flight response, so that makes sense. But that's it. Everything else stays within normal baseline.”

“So, based on your scans, I never changed to Winter Soldier?” 

“Correct.”

He nodded. The sound of footsteps made him turn. Steve was crossing the lab, a smile on his face. 

“Hey, Stevie.” He said quietly as Steve dropped an arm around him. 

“Hey, Buck, Tony.” Steve said easily.

“Cap.” Tony said.

“Tony, Nat texted and she will be at the apartment to get some stuff in a few days. I think Buck and I are going to spend a few days there. She wanted to know if you wanted to come see the new baby?”

“Umm, J, is Pepper in a meeting?”

“Not currently, sir.”

Tony reached over and grabbed a tablet. A moment later, Pepper's face appeared on the screen. “Hey, hon.” Tony said easily.

“Tony? What's going on?” Pepper sounded nervous. It was obvious Tony didn't frequently call her during the day.

“Clint wants us to come see the new baby in a few days. Think we can move some things around?”

“Umm.” He heard a rustling of paper. “Yeah, definitely! It will be good to see Laura again.” 

“Thanks, babe.”

“Tony!” He paused halfway through ending the call. “Dinner tonight. Don't forget. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Tony said.

“Guess we’re good!” Tony said easily.

Steve nodded. “Ready to try this again?” Steve said. He waited for Tony to answer before realizing Steve was addressing him. 

“Yeah. Scans again?”

But Tony was already walking towards the circle. He took up position. As Steve opened his mouth to speak the first word, the elevator opened. Peter was back.

“Hey, Mr. Stark, I…” Peter hesitated, seeing them all watching him. “Umm…Should I?” He glanced back to the elevator.

“It's ok.” He said, before he thought about it. 

Steve turned to look at him. “Buck, you sure?”

He nodded, meeting Steve's eyes. “It's beat, right?” He said, flashing a smile he didn't really feel. Tony had invited Peter back, it really wasn't his place to make the kid leave again. Besides, if it was really over, who cared if Peter knew the words? 

Peter still hovered by the edge of the elevator. “So... I should….”

“It's ok, Pete. If Buck says you can stay, you can stay.” Steve said, eyes still holding his.

“Oh. Umm. Okay.” Peter walked through the room. “Are you…?” He trailed off.

“Working on the Winter Soldier trigger. Yeah.” Tony said softly.

He took a breath and nodded at Steve. It felt strange, knowing Peter was there, but he was past it being a concern.

Steve started and he let his eyes close, forcing himself to stay present as the words hit him. He felt acutely aware of the extra set of eyes on him as he the final words hit. 

As soon as Steve was done, he rolled his shoulders, flexing his fingers and toes. He still felt stiff, like coming out of cryo, but he could move.

“Bucky? Are you ok?” Peter's voice sounded tiny and far away.

“He's ok, Pete. It's been a lot of work but he's finally beaten it. Tony and I are both very proud of him.” Steve crossed to stand in front of him. He let his forehead drop onto Steve's collar bone. Everything felt fuzzy and quiet but he was ok. He could move, he was free. “Ready to head upstairs?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.” His voice felt rough. He was able to follow Steve without help, though his movement wasn't fluid. He could feel Peter's eyes following him as he moved. What did the kid think of him now, seeing him like this? His stomach rolled and he forced himself to focus on getting back to the privacy of their apartment. 

When the elevator let them out on their floor, he felt relief spread over him. “Need something to drink, Buck?” Steve asked, his voice pushing through the fog in his mind.

“Just water. Thank you, Stevie.” He said quietly. He heard Steve fill a glass and then bring it to the coffee table.

“Come sit down, Buck.” Steve said quietly.

His muscles jumped to comply before the words cut through the fog. He came and sat next to Steve on the couch. Steve pulled the blanket over him and he sighed. “Peter thinks I'm a monster?” He asked, forcing the concern forward.

“I don't think that's what he was feeling, Buck.” Steve's arm slid around his shoulders and he tucked into Steve's side without complaint. “Seeing you fight it off is a lot but Peter supports you, same as Tony and I. It's just jarring to see how horrible Hydra was first hand.”

He wanted to argue more but the fog seemed to be pushing away the words. He needed to tell Steve that. “Stevie?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“After, m'head feels all foggy.” 

Steve hummed, thinking. “Is it a bad feeling?”

“I. No?”

“If I told you right now to go hurt someone, could you  _ not _ follow the order?”

“I think?”

“Go punch Tony.” Steve's tone was sharp, definitely an order, but he didn't want to do that. He remained still, though the words felt a bit like a mosquito buzzing in the fog. “You good?” Steve asked, voice back to normal.

“Yeah. I'm good.”

Steve nodded. “Seems ok, then. I wouldn't worry too much.”

He nodded, too. He shifted until Steve let him tuck into his ribs, stretching out. Steve's fingers trailed absently over his side, he turned on the TV.

He let himself doze, pressed into Steve's side. He wasn't really tired, the trigger didn't wear him out so much anymore, but between the blanket and the rhythmic sound of Steve's breathing, he found himself unable to stay awake.

“Are you excited to meet Clint's wife and kids?” Steve asked as he shifted, getting comfortable after waking again.

“How many kids does he have?”

“Two… Well, I guess three, now.” Steve chuckled. “Copper is the oldest, then Lila, and I'm not sure what the new baby's name is.”

He nodded, “And his wife is Laura?” 

Steve nodded. Steve's fingers moved to his hair, beginning to brush through the strands. “I think you'll like the farm, too. It's a big two story house that Clint built himself, over the years. It’s in a big circle of trees, real quiet, off the grid.”

He hummed softly. “Sounds good, Stevie. It’ll be fun.”

August 15

He had just finished eating when Jarvis announced Natalia's return to the tower. He immediately stood and headed for the elevator. “Hey, we gotta pack first.” Steve called after him.

“I'm just going to say hi. I haven't seen her in months. I'll be back in a few.” He said as the elevator doors closed on any further complaints Steve had.

It was strange, to be back on her floor after so long. Natalia was rummaging through a drawer when he stepped out of the elevator. “Hey, Natalia.” He said.

“Hey, yourself, Soldier. It's been a minute.” She turned and flashed him a smile. “I like the black.” She pointed to his arm. “New arm or just new look?”

“Steve painted it for me.” 

Nat crossed the room, reaching out to touch the shoulder panel. “Wouldn't ever be able to tell what was there before. He did a good job.”

He smiled. 

“You seem like you've made some changes all around, since I last saw you. More human, less soldier. I heard you were working on the Winter Soldier trigger?” She returned to digging around in the drawer.

“We think it's beat. I mean, it is beat when Stevie does it. It's down to just a foggy feeling after, instead of going full Winter.”

“Stevie, huh?” She said with a smile. “So what's next, then?”

“We were hoping to have you run through it, soon, make sure with different people it's still okay. Tony is going to but he's having to pick up enough Russian to try.”

“God, Tony speaking Russian?” Natalia laughed. “So, who all is coming back to the house?”

“Stevie and I are going, Tony and Pepper too. They are taking their own transportation, though. They aren't planning to stay overnight.”

She smirked, “Not enough beds and not enough for Tony to do when he can't sleep. They never really stay overnight. You and Steve will have to share a room or one of you will have to take the couch.”

“We can share, it's fine.”

Natalia turned to him. “So, are you two a thing now or….” She trailed off.

“No!” The response came out before he could even think. “I mean. We.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “I don't know?” He finally settled on. “A lot has changed since we were kids. We...we definitely were, back then. I think right now we... _ I  _ am still figuring some things out.”

Natalia crossed the room to rest a hand on his arm. “If I've learned anything, since getting away from Hydra, you do whatever you can to make yourself happy and fuck what the world thinks. You deserve that.”

“Thanks, Natalia, you do, too.” She smiled. 

“I am going to get a few more things and I'll be ready to go. Can you go make sure everyone else is ready?”

“Yeah.” He said easily. “I have to get my shit together, too. I'll see you in a bit.”

As the elevator started to move he asked, “Jarvis, does Pepper know Natalia is here?”

“Not currently. Shall I let her know?”

“Yeah and let her know when we are leaving, too.”

“Certainly.”

That would get Tony ready. He stepped out into the apartment. Steve had tossed a duffle bag on the couch and was tossing clothes in. “How was Nat?” Steve asked when he looked up.

“Seemed good.” He said. Then, noticing a glint of silver over the back of the couch, “Are you bringing your shield?” He asked.

Steve stood. “Yeah? Why wouldn't I?”

“I thought you said Clint's place was pretty off the grid?”

“Better safe, than sorry.” Steve said, a strange expression on his face.

He nodded. “How much do I need to pack?”

Steve shrugged. “I figured we would stay at least a few days.”

“Sounds good. I didn't even think to ask, think Clint will mind Pup coming?”

“It should be ok. I'll call him and check.”

“Thanks, Stevie.”

By the time he came back out of the bedroom, arms laden with clothes, Steve was already off the phone. “He said Pup is also welcome.” He said with a smile.

When they arrived upstairs an hour later, they found Nat surrounded in a sea of canvas bags. 

“Nat, wha-” Steve asked as they skirted around the bags.

“Hey, guys. Help me load up?” Nat said, stepping back into the Quinjet

He nodded and grabbed some of the bags. Steve brought their things into the Quinjet before moving to help, too.

“So, how's this going to work?” He asked Nat. There was only room for one Quinjet on the landing pad. With enough skill, a pilot could probably land one on the roof. “Since Steve and I are going to be flying ourselves, then Tony and Pepper will need their own as well.”

“Technically, we could all ride in one.” Nat paused to rest a hand on the side of the jet. “Tony and Pepper could fly it back here and then send it back to the farm on autopilot but I dont like not having a jet at the farm. I'm giving you all a lift to the main hanger and we will leave out from there.”

“Of course Tony has a hangar.” He said with a smile.

“Why wouldn't I have a hangar?” Tony and Pepper had stepped out of the elevator and were surveying the bags. “What's going on? Is that punk giving them trouble with delivering things, because he's getting paid a lot of money to get whatever they need and do it quietly.”

“No, Tony. Ethan is doing fine. They live in a small town, not everything is available for him to get easily.” Nat sounded annoyed but he could see her smiling as she grabbed a few more bags.

“The internet exists out there. I made sure he had it before I even told him what the job was.” Tony was standing, shoulders square, arms folded.

“Leave him alone, Tony. He's doing fine.” Nat repeated. “Most of this is stuff they need for Nathaniel.”

“Nathaniel?” Surprise in Tony's voice. “I thought they were having a girl named Natasha?” 

“Yeah, well, he's a traitor, so…” Nat moved the last few bags. 

He grabbed Pup's lead and settled in. Steve dropped next to him and slid an arm around his shoulders. He tensed, acutely aware of three sets of eyes that could be staring, but he also trusted Steve. He leaned on him before carefully sneaking glances at the other three. Nat was already in the pilot's seat, preparing for take off. Tony and Pepper were talking in hushed voices. Tony said something and Pepper laughed, before leaning in to kiss Tony. If anyone cared about him and Steve, they hid it well. 

As the Quinjet's engines moved from idling to active, he remembered how much Steve didn't like flying. He could feel the other man tense as they began to move. He slipped out from under Steve's arm and put this arm around Steve's shoulders, instead.

Steve hesitated a moment before leaning against him. He could feel Steve's heart pounding. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the seat as they took off. 

“There's a lot of wind today but it's not far. I'll do my best.” Nat's voice came from the pilot's seat. 

No sooner had she spoke, they dropped a few feet. Steve's hand grabbed his leg and his breath caught. He carefully pried the hand from his leg. “We're ok.” He spoke into Steve's ear. Steve's hand tightened in his left. 

Had things been this bad for Steve on the flight back from Romania? Steve had seemed uncomfortable but nothing like this. He must have been acting tough. He ran the pad of his left thumb back and forth across Steve's hand. 

When he risked another quick glance across at Tony and Pepper, they still seemed completely unfazed by he and Steve's closeness. Tony had an arm around Pepper and they were still talking, taking turns speaking into each other's ears to keep the conversation private.

The rest of the flight to the hangar was, thankfully, uneventful. Nat let them all off, then took off again.

He followed Tony and Pepper into the massive hangar. “Holy shit, Tony.” His eyes didn't know quite where to settle first. A row of Quinjets took up most of the left wall. Rows and rows of various planes, both new and old, filled most of the space. Some he recognized right away as planes he'd seen during the war or from world war one. Others were definitely newer. He stopped following when his eyes landed on the line of planes that took up the right wall, all of them Hydra's. “Tony, why do you have Hydra planes in here.”

“Those were Howard's. Hydra was using tech more advanced than him, so naturally, he asked and captured planes were brought back here. A lot of these are Howard's.” 

He crossed the hangar as memories burst through his mind. The third one brought the most memories. “I learned how to fly in one like this. Once they were sure I wouldn't just fly off.” 

He followed the row down. He recognized more than he didn't, of the Hydra planes, and had at least been in most of them, even if he'd never been off the ground.

“I don't come here anymore, so I forget they’re even here. When I was a kid, I was down here every few days. Jarvis slipped an instructor extra cash on the side to let me get my pilot's license at 11. It was a good way to stay busy.”

The row of planes ended and he turned. Spread across the back of the hangar was a plane, or rather what had once been a plane. It had been broken apart and crumpled. The parts of it were laid in what had, at one point, been its original shape.

“What is this?” He asked. It was still definitely Hydra.

“That.” Steve said, his voice strangely quiet, “Is the plane I went down in.”

He spun to look between Tony and Steve. “Why the fuck is it here?” He was yelling, he realized, as his voice echoed in the hangar.

“I don't know. Howard ordered it, I guess. I didn't find out about the order till someone called me to tell me it was done. Said Howard had left it as a standing order if Cap was ever found, that the plane be returned here. I guess he wanted to study it? Or just have something of Cap's? Fuck if I know what the fuck he wanted.”

He turned to stare at the wreck. How anyone could have landed in that and survived? He was torn between wanting to never see the plane again and a morbid curiosity to explore the wreckage.

In the end, the decision was made for him as Pepper's voice called from the other side of the hangar, “Ready to go?”

Tony turned immediately and slipped off down the row. Steve didn't move, his eyes were staring unblinkingly at the wrecked plane. “Come on, Stevie.” He said quietly, pulling Steve so he was faced away from the wreckage, before pulling him into a hug. As Steve returned the hug, he looked at the wreckage, one last time, over Steve's shoulder. “Ready to go see Clint?” He asked when Steve broke the hug.

“Yeah, Buck. Let's go.” Steve said easily, though his expression was still reserved. 

By the time they made it to the front of the hangar, one of the Quinjets had gone. “Want me to fly, Stevie?” He asked. 

“Nah, I'm ok, Buck. Thank you.”

The trip to Clint's seemed to go quickly. Steve seemed to relax more as they got farther away from the hangar. He still didn't understand why Tony would keep the remnants of the plane.

“Almost there.” Steve said, after about an hour. He looked around. Nothing but trees and open fields for as far as he could see. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of Tony's Quinjet dropping into a clearing. The line of trees broke into a field. From above, the light green roof almost blended into the surrounding grass. 

As Steve brought them down, he watched the cream colored house come into view. It was a two story house with a porch that wrapped around the front and down the side. A few vehicles sat parked next to the gravel drive. Behind the house, a wooden barn sat, surrounded by a fence. He could see animals wandering around the fenced areas.

He spotted Clint in one of the surrounding fields. A boy was with him. The top of the child's head came up to Clint's shoulder. The boy held a bow, fully drawn, as he aimed at targets in the field. 

The Quinjet landed with a soft thump. “Ready to get back on solid ground for awhile?” He asked Steve, who nodded.

“Very ready.” 

Pup seemed ready to get off the plane, too. She pulled at her lead as they stepped into the grass. Tony and Pepper were stepping out of their Quinjet. Nat must already be inside.

Clint and the child crossed the grass towards them. “Clint.” Pepper said with a smile as he pulled her into a hug.

“Pepper, it's good to see you again. I'm glad you could both come.”

“We are so happy for you.” Pepper said as they moved apart.

“Tony.” Clint said turning to face Tony, “You two sure you can't stay overnight? We can make up the couch for the kids. It's a lot of flying for one day.”

“I wish we could but we have a meeting tomorrow we  _ both have to attend _ .” Pepper's eyes held Tony's. Tony held up his hands in mock surrender. “Besides, we don't want to put any extra strain on Laura.”

Clint laughed. “You really think Nat would let her do any of it. She's starting to go crazy, with Nat waiting on her and taking care of everything.”

Tony, who looked only half interested in the conversation, turned to the boy who stood a half step behind Clint. “Coop.”

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Uh uh. What did we talk about last time?”

The boy rolled his eyes but a smile spread over his face. “Mr. Stark was your Dad and to call you Tony if I wanted you to bring me anything.”

Tony smiled, “There's a good man. I have something for you, once we get inside.”

The boy’s face lit up as Clint moved towards them, pulling Steve into a one arm hug. “Glad you could come.” 

“Thanks for inviting us.” Steve replied with a smile.

As Clint stepped back, and he was able to see him properly, Clint's arms were dappled with Band-Aids. There was a small cut under his right eye.

“Uhh. Clint, you ok?” He asked.

“Hey, not all of us get super healing.” Clint's eyes met his as he laughed. “Nat told me about the trigger, Buck. That's great.” He let Clint pull him into a hug as well. 

“Thanks. This is a beautiful place here.”

Clint smiled, “Thanks. It's taken a lot of work to get it here but it's home. This is Cooper.” Clint said gesturing towards the kid. “Cooper, this is Sergeant Barnes.”

He must have made a face, based on how Tony and Steve started laughing at the same time, but Cooper seemed not to care. “Nice to meet you, sir.” Cooper held out his hand. “Thank you for your service.”

He smirked as he shook Cooper's hand. “Just call me Bucky, okay.”

Cooper smiled and nodded.

“Let's head inside. Laura was looking forward to seeing everyone.”

He followed everyone up the stairs to the porch, then in through the front door. Immediately through the door was a staircase leading up but they followed Clint to the right, through an archway into an open living room and kitchen. Laura, who he recognized from the picture Nat had sent, was sitting in a rocking chair cradling the tiny baby. Nat sat on the floor next to a coffee table, coloring with a young girl. The girl looked to be much younger than Cooper.

Pepper said Laura's name as she crossed the room and carefully hugged the other woman. “It is _ so _ good to see you again! Congratulations!”

Laura smiled, “I'm happy to see you, too! I wasn't sure if you'd be able to come.”

“We wouldn't want to miss it! Oh my God, Laura, he's beautiful!” Pepper crooned, her attention on the small bundle in Laura's arms.

“Looks just like Clint, doesn't he?” Laura smiled.

Tony leaned over. “Yeah, Clint, buddy, no denying this one.”

“Uh huh. And when am I going to be able to come to the tower and congratulate you two for a change?” Laura said with a smirk before offering the bundle of blankets to Tony. Tony carefully slid the baby into his arms. The baby fussed softly at being jostled and Tony hummed softly and rocked the baby, before he quieted back down.

Laura stood, moved over to Steve and hugged him.”I'm glad you boys could come. I think Clint gets a bit stir crazy when he can't see you all.”

“It's really nice of you to invite us. It will be good to have a change of scenery for a few days.”

She turned to him. “You must be Bucky. It's nice to finally meet you. Clint and Nat have both told me a lot about you.” He opened his arms reflexively and she hugged him, too. “I'm glad you're starting to take control of your life again. I can only imagine how hard it must have been, trying to get your life back.”

She turned to look at Nat and the girl on the floor. “You'll have to excuse Lila, she's shy around new people.”

He glanced over at the girl. She had scooted back from the table and under Natalia's arm, so she was partly hidden from view.

“That's too bad. Red still your favorite color, Coop?” Tony said, sitting on the couch. 

“Yes, sir.” Cooper said, practically buzzing with excitement.

Tony reached into his pocket with the arm not still cradling the baby and pulled a small, round object out of his pocket, which he tossed to Cooper. “Press the red button.” Tony said. Cooper did and the circle popped in half. The top half flew a foot up and hovered. The bottom half, he realized, had flat buttons. “Figured it was time for the kids to both have a robot. Literally uncrashable, self charges on the controller. Red for Coop, and I made a purple one for Lila, since I seem to remember that was her favorite color. If she's gone missing, though, I guess I'll have to keep this one for myself.”

He could see a wide grin spread over Lila's face and she climbed onto the couch next to Tony. 

“Oh! It's a miracle! Look who's come home.” Tony handed her a robot identical to Cooper's but, as promised, a soft lilac color.

She squealed as he pressed the button and the disk flew up to hover in front of her. “Thank you, Tony!” Cooper said. Lila echoed, joy still on her face. Carefully, she pushed a button and the robot flew straight for a wall. At the last moment, it stopped, hovering an inch away from the wall even though her finger still pressed the button.

Tony smirked, “Uncrashable.”

“Thank you, Tony. You spoil those two.” Laura said, settling back into the rocking chair.

“It's the least we could do, since you invited us here and let us steal your baby.” Pepper said with a smile.

He sat on the loveseat. Pup promptly tried to climb into his lap. Steve dropped next to him, his arm resting on the back of the loveseat. 

Laura laughed, “Hey, if it means you will change his diaper, I'm all for it. Clint had forgotten what it was like to change a boy.” Natalia joined in laughing.

“Good job, Hawkeye.” Tony said and everyone began to laugh.

“Hey! It was two in the morning, cut me some slack!” Clint said but he was laughing all the same.

“Mr. Sta… Tony, can these fly outside too?” Cooper asked.

“Come on, you think I'd make anything for you two that couldn't go outside?” 

“Mom, can we?”

“Go ahead. Just be back in time for dinner.” She had to yell the last few words as both kids ran for the door. She shook her head but was smiling. “So, how have things been lately? I feel like I haven't seen any of you in years!”

Pepper began to catch Laura up on something new Stark Industries was working on. He felt his mind wander. Tony seemed to be completely unaware, as well, he was speaking softly to the baby and rocking him gently. He really seemed good with kids. Honestly, it surprised him. Tony was good at a lot of things but he'd never expected kids to be one of them.

He jumped back to attention when he heard Laura say Steve's name.

“Not too much.” Steve answered whatever question had been asked. “Went to an appearance on the 4th. Autographs, pictures, that sort of thing. Honestly, just been home a lot, which has been so nice. Been helping Buck a good bit.” Steve's arm dropped to his shoulder and shook him gently.

Laura's eyes turned to him. “Has it been hard? Coming back after so long? I remember Cap talking about how different everything was.”

He nodded. “I. I was out more than Stevie was, so some of it was less of a shock than it was for him. Getting Hydra out of my head has been hard. I've been lucky to have everyone helping.”

Nathaniel babbled softly in Tony's arms, drawing the attention off of him. “You're such a natural, Tony.” Laura said gently. “So, you never answered my question. I know you two have been thinking about it for years.”

Nat stood. “I'm going to start dinner.” Laura started to sit up. “I'm ok. You catch up.”

He gained his feet, following her into the kitchen. Nat smiled. “You planning to help?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine by me.”

They worked in relative silence, Nat giving him things to do. He only half listened to the conversation as it went on in the living room. Laura seemed to love talking with everyone. When the baby cried, Nat paused, but continued cooking as Tony stood to change him. When he returned to the room, he passed the baby to Pepper who seemed just as delighted to hold him as Tony had been.

“Food’s about ready.” Nat called into the living room, an hour later, as she passed him things to set the table. 

Clint hopped up and headed for the front door. He heard Clint whistle and, a few moments later, he heard the kids climbing the steps. Tony showed the kids how to put the two halves of the toy together to charge before they all sat for dinner.

He sat at the end of the table and Steve settled next to him. Everyone at the table seemed to be chatting. He was relieved they didn't try to get him to join in. Food was passed around, everyone adding what they wanted to their plates. Steve leaned close as he passed the mashed potatoes, “You doing ok?” Steve whispered into his ear.

“Yeah, I'm good, Stevie.”

The table quieted as everyone ate, though both Cooper and Lila continued a stream of conversation about the fun they had with the toys Tony made. Steve shifted and their legs bumped. He didn't move away, letting Steve's leg rest on his. He was happy to see everyone but he was beginning to feel tired out.

After dinner, Tony and Pepper left after getting hugs from Clint, Laura and the kids. Once inside, Clint hesitated in the living room. “Want any help with the dishes?”

“No, Daddy, you promised you'd read.” Lila stomped her tiny foot, a glare on her face.

“I'm ok, Steve, Bucky, do one of you mind holding Nathaniel?”

Without thinking, he stepped forward. Laura looked as surprised as he felt but he took the tiny bundle anyway, rocking him carefully. “Where did you learn to help with babies?” Laura asked, a smile on her face.

“Helped raise my sisters when Ma had to work.” He said.

“Well, thank you. He's colicky or I'd just put him down.”

He sat in the rocking chair, absently moving back and forth. Clint had settled on the couch, one kid tucked on either side of him, a book in his hand. Clint began to read, both kids listening with rapt attention. He had no clue what the book was, he could only see the back cover, but it had enough detail he could see the pictures starting to form in his mind's eye, nonetheless. It seemed to have something to do with wizards. 

“Wait, what?” He asked suddenly as a word jumped out at him. 

Clint looked up, surprised. “Voldemort?” He repeated.

“Really, Tony?” He groaned. “What book is that?”

“Harry Potter? Why?”

“Tony...before my name.”

Clint and Steve both broke into fits of laughter.

“Daddy? Daddy, what's so funny?” Lila demanded.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just Tony making a  _ really _ bad joke.”

When Clint took the kids upstairs, Nat showed them to the bedroom where they'd be staying. “Guest room is here. Everyone else is going to be upstairs, so this floor is yours after about 9. With the animals and getting the kids out for school, they go to bed early and get up early around here.”

“Thanks, Nat.” Steve said easily. Their bags had already been brought in and sat on the floor by the bed. 

Clint poked his head around the corner. “We are heading to bed early. We were up all night with Nate. Beer in the fridge, feel free to make yourselves at home, and we will see you in the morning.”

Clint headed back upstairs. Natalia followed. “So, what do you want to do?” Steve asked easily. 

“Let's go walk around a bit, Pup can stretch her legs.”

Steve nodded and they headed for the door. The air outside was warm and sweet. Pup was more than happy to run, though she stayed close enough he could still easily track her movement. They wandered through the grassy field. “Were you ok, earlier?” Steve asked quietly.

“Yeah. Just a lot of talking.”

Steve nodded. “If you ever get to feeling overwhelmed, just let me know. We can find a reason to come wander out here, or go to the bedroom for a few minutes, so you can catch your breath.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Stevie.” He wandered to the top of one of the gently rolling hills and sat. Steve dropped next to him in the grass. Pup sprinted over but, as soon as she saw they were ok, she licked his face and took off again. He laughed, wiping his cheek. “Jesus, Stevie, look at all the stars.” He said, as his eyes turned to the sky.”

“Can't see the sky like this in New York City.” Steve agreed, reclining back on his elbows to look up at the stars.

“It's like that night. I,” he struggled to pull back the memory which had been, just moments ago, so close to the surface. “We sat up on the fire escape and watched the moon. You remember?”

“Yeah.” Steve said, a smile playing across his face.

“I got off work an’, when I got home, the whole right side of your face was purple. Some guy pickin’ on…who was it again?”

“Susie.” Steve supplied. “Down by the diner.”

“You were still pissed as fuck, too. I didn't think you were ever gonna wind down that night.”

“Hey, you came in mad cause they cut your hours and then hollered at me for gettin’ in a fight. Dunno what you were expecting.”

He laughed. “For you to not get into shit for once. Really, it was my mistake for thinking you'd ever manage to behave. You were mad enough you wouldn't let me see how bad it was, even after we stopped shoutin’. Finally, I…” but he trailed off as the rest of the memory filled in. When he'd finally calmed down, he'd tried to actually talk to Steve, make sure he was ok, but Steve had been mad as hell. Finally, he'd caught Steve's chin between his thumb and forefinger and gotten the cool cloth away to see the damage. Steve had still been spitting mad and he'd run out of ways to stop him hollerin’, so he'd dropped his head, brought their lips together. Steve had been so shocked, he'd forgotten about being mad. When they finally broke apart, they'd gone to the fire escape and watched the moon rise high in the sky.

“Buck? You ok?” Steve's voice pulled him out of his mind. 

Before he could think too much, his hand moved up to catch Steve's chin and he dropped his head to bring their lips together. Steve grunted in surprise. It only took Steve a second to respond, Steve's hand slipping up to cradle his jaw. A tidal wave of memories rolled over him as his hand moved to grab at the back of Steve's head, hold him close, his other arm moving to support his weight as he hovered over Steve. 

The memories continued to flood his mind, so vivid and intense, it was hard not to get lost in them, to stay present. Grabbing Steve's shoulder, he rolled, pulling Steve so the other man lay half on top of him. He pulled Steve down hard, making sure their lips stayed together, as Steve shifted at the sudden change in position. 

The weight of Steve's body pressing him into the cool earth seemed to lock him firmly in the present and he opened his lips, tongue demanding entrance to Steve's mouth.

A low whine slipped through Steve's lips as he opened. While the weight of Steve's body felt different than his memories, this didn't. His tongue battled with Stevie's as his hand moved against the short hair at the back of the other man's head.

When Steve tried to lean back, he arched up, following the movement till Steve fisted the hair at the back of his scalp, stopping the moment.

“Jesus Christ, Buck.” Steve said. He was more than a bit pleased with himself, to hear the breathlessness of Steve's voice. Steve's head dropped back, illuminating the column of his neck in the moonlight. He stretched forward to try to nip at the exposed skin but came up short, Steve still had him by the hair. “Not that I'm not enjoying this but where the fuck did this come from?”

“So what, I can't kiss you anymore? I thought you said being a fag was ok, now.”

“Bucky--”

“Yeah, yeah, gay whatever.” He felt a wave of irritation starting to build hot in his chest.

“It  _ is _ ok, Buck. You just startled me, that's all, ok?”

“Yeah, ok.” He grumbled. It didn't feel ok, the anger in his chest still bubbled.

Steve dropped his head, bringing their lips back together. He pulled Steve down, crushing their mouths together, and biting Steve's lower lip hard enough he tasted copper, and the anger drained away. His hand moved up, gently caressing Steve's cheek and jaw, letting himself relearn what decades had made him forget.

When they broke apart again, Steve pressed their foreheads together. He closed his eyes, the closeness feeling simultaneously foreign and familiar.

“Christ, Buck, you don't know how long I've waited for this.” Steve murmured softly.

He chuckled, bringing their lips together again. The kiss deepened, this time slow and gentle. Steve pulled back and rolled them, pulling him until his head rested over Steve's beating heart. He closed his eyes, listening to the steady sound. He didn't realize he'd started to fall asleep till Steve's soft voice woke him. “Come on, Buck. Let's head inside.” He let Steve draw him to his feet. Their hands stayed folded together as they walked inside. 

They changed and crawled under the covers. He draped an arm over Steve's stomach. Steve followed his lead and rolled into his side, Steve's head resting on his chest. Steve's hand moved up to absently run across his chest, fingers tracing scars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter instead of posting two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

__ August 16

He woke up slowly, light filling the room on the other side of his closed eyelids. He felt warm and lazy. He blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Steve was still pressed against him, though in the night he'd rolled onto his back. 

He sat up, moving carefully, he braced an arm on either side of Steve and brought their lips together. Steve jumped under him as he woke up. Then, a low rumbling sigh left Steve's throat as his hand slipped up, pulling him close. The kiss was slow, almost gentle, by comparison to the frantic kisses from the night before.

When Steve pushed against him, he rolled easily. Steve hovered above him, Steve's hand on his shoulder pinning him to the bed. Steve dropped gentle, unhurried kisses onto his lips before bringing their foreheads together. He closed his eyes, pulling in a long slow, breath through his nose filling his head with the smell of Steve. 

“Morning, Buck.” Steve said, his voice rough with sleep.

“Mornin’, Stevie.” He leaned forward to catch Steve's lips in another soft kiss. 

Steve returned the kiss for a moment before pressing him back into the mattress by his shoulder. He pulled Steve, trying to get him to lay down. Steve chuckled, “I'm not 94 pounds anymore, punk, that wouldn't feel good.”

“I can handle it.” He said.

Steve huffed but, when he pulled again, Steve let himself stretch out. Steve's cheek rested on his breastbone, Steve's arms on either side of his shoulders. Steve's chest settled onto his stomach. His hand reached up to run gently through Steve's hair.

They stayed like that until the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs alerted them to the rest of the house waking up. 

Steve sat up slowly, crawling up to place another long, slow kiss onto his lips. “You want first shower?” Steve asked.

“Na, go ahead. I want to wait till after we eat.” Steve nodded and headed into the bathroom. He dressed and stepped into the living room. 

“Good morning!” Laura called from the kitchen. “Didn't expect to see you awake so early. The kids didn't wake you, did they?”

“No, we were already awake.”

“Everyone's outside, taking care of the animals, if you want to go say hi. Breakfast will be ready soon.”

He nodded and turned, stepping onto the porch, whistling for Pup to follow. The morning air was crisp and cool. He followed the sounds of voices to the barn. Stepping inside, he found Nat leaning against the wall, rocking Nathaniel. “Morning.” She smiled.

“Hey.”

He moved into the barn and found Clint milking a cow. It was all he had, not to laugh at how strange it was to see.

“Hey, Buck.”

“Hey. Didn't know you were such a farmer.” Clint laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you.” Clint said.

From behind a half wall, he heard an over dramatic gasp before Lila poked her nose though the mesh. “Daddy said a swear!” She was grinning ear to ear.

“Uh huh. Daddy is an adult. If I catch you saying it, no TV for a week.”

Lila's face dropped to a pout. A chicken walked next to her, giving him a good idea of what she was doing.

“Hey, Buck, can you help Coop? The wire cutters are getting pretty dull and he needs another bale.” 

He followed Clint's eyes to Cooper, standing hallway up a stack of baled hay that almost reached the ceiling of the barn.

He climbed up next to Cooper, who passed the wire cutters. It took some work but he was able to cut through the wires holding the hay. “Thanks.” Copper said with a smile before pulling the bales down. “Want to toss one to the goats?”

“Cooper! Don't go passing off your chores.” Clint called up to them.

A frown passed over Cooper's face. “It's ok, Clint. I don't mind.” He winked at the boy, who smiled. “Which one is the goats?” Cooper pointed to the pen on the far right. He pulled the bale down. The pen Cooper indicated was the only one without a half wall. He stepped through the door, pulling it behind him, and tossing the hay. Most of the goats immediately ran to the food but a couple seemed more interested in him. He crouched. He'd never been up close to a goat, at least not that he could remember. He reached out and pet the one closest to him. It's fur was coarse and wiry, and its head felt strange and hard. When it turned its head, its pupils were long and horizontal. It was unnerving. The goat nibbled at the edge of his sleeve, so he stood. It reared back and head-butted his leg.

“Means he likes you.” Clint's voice made him jump.

“It's eyes are weird.”

“What? Oh, the pupils? Yeah, they are. It's just how goats eyes are. It lets them see all around them without having to turn. Good when you're prey. Come on, Laura has breakfast ready.”

He followed Clint into the house, the kids must have already gone in. Pup bolted up to the house, jumping to the porch, and skidding to a halt at the door. Her tongue hung out and her sides heaved. “Must have found a squirrel or rabbit to chase.” Clint said with a smile, letting Pup in before following.

The house smelled amazing. Clint moved over and kissed Laura before heading to the table. Laura sat in the living room, shirt pulled to the side, breastfeeding Nathaniel. He moved to sit next to Steve at the table. Both kids were already eating.

Steve's knee bumped against his when he sat. He pushed his leg back and Steve glanced at him with a smile.

As soon as the kids finished eating, Clint sent them upstairs. “Get ready for school, and that doesn't mean turn on the TV, Cooper.” He called as they thundered up the stairs.

“They go to public school?” Steve asked.

“No, they are home schooled. Twice a week, they get together with the other homeschooled kids. Cooper probably could be, if he really wanted to, but he has said no any time we ask.”

“He's quiet and shy, especially around kids his own age. He has always tested way higher than his age group. I think he finds it hard to find things to talk about.” Laura said, moving to sit at the table. “Lila’s definitely more social but she is still too young not to talk about Clint.”

“Must be hard, to homeschool and take care of Nathaniel.” Steve said.

“Nat is a life saver.” Laura said, smiling over at Natalia. “Without her, there is no way we could have handled three.”

He turned to look at Natalia. She was smiling quietly. After breakfast, Laura took the kids and piled into an old pickup, before heading out of the circle of trees. He took a quick shower and dressed. When he came out, Natalia sat alone in the rocker, holding a sleeping Nathaniel.

He wandered over and sat down. “How are you liking farm life, Soldier,” Natalia asked with a smile. 

“It's so peaceful out here. It reminds me of being in the forests, in Romania.”

“When was that?”

“After the Helicarrier. I took a boat overseas. Docked in Rotterdam, then walked to Bucharest.” Natalia nodded. “What about you? How'd you go from the Red Room to this?”

Natalia sighed. “I got on SHIELD's radar. Clint was assigned to kill me. I was lucky it was Clint. In all of his missions, he would watch and wait, see if what was told was true. I was deep undercover for the KGB, funneling secrets to them, a lot of them SHIELD secrets. He saw how the KGB treated me, saw the handcuff on the bed,” his eyes flickered to her wrist. Even here, the makeup covered the scarring, “And he realized something was up. He took me hostage. It was more than a year before I was able to start to break through the programming. He stayed by me that whole time. Almost managed to kill him four times. It's still hard. I still have nightmares, sometimes. Clint and I were friends when he first started dating Laura. She hated me at first.” Nathaniel stirred and she bounced him softly before continuing. “They had only been on a few dates. No real good way to bring up that an ex KGB agent was living at your house. Anyway, she came here to surprise him and found us curled up watching a movie. I thought for sure she was going to Molotov the house. It was weeks before he talked her into coming back, meeting me. The relationship was still on the rocks for a few months after.”

“And now you have your own bedroom and help raise the kids.” Natalia cast him a look.

“I love them. And I love the kids.” Natalia looked down at the infant in her arms. 

“I remember you trying to fail the exam.” He said softly. 

“Were you still around for that?” Natalia's eyebrows knit as she thought back. “I thought they shipped you out, to start expanding the Winter Soldier program, before my exam.”

“That was the plan. There was some delay. Weather I think. I was there. I watched all the exams in your class.”

Natalia was silent for a long moment. “I didn't want to go through with the ceremony. I hoped they would kill me, instead. But she knew I was faking it. I was top of the class.”

He smiled. “Yeah. I remember when they started giving the order to not hold back, use both arms. You were the first.”

She smirked, “They viewed it as invaluable that I could take you down. It's in my file, to use me if you ever went rogue, and here we are, years later.”

“Hunting me down when I went rogue.” He finished, laughing. “So are the three of you..?” He let the sentence trail off.

“Together?” Nat supplied. He nodded.

“Depends on your definition. We all love each other, trust each other. We have all slept in the same bed together but in the way you're thinking, no, we aren't together. We don't have sex, we aren't all a couple, or anything like that.”

“Why?” He realized, after the word slipped out, that it was probably rude. He opened his mouth to apologize and withdraw the question but Natalia answered before he could.

“I don't want to. I know you were around the Red Room long enough to know how they viewed sex there, how it was just another tool at our disposal. Even before that though...” She smiled. “Did you know some of the girls there, hell, most of the girls there, were  _ really _ attracted to you?”

He snorted.

“No, really, they were. And a lot of girls were attracted to each other, too, and I just  _ wasn't _ . I never got those feelings for anyone. And then the training. It's just not something I'm interested in having now.”

“But that decision makes you happy? It's not because of what happened?”

“There is no way to remove what happened from the equation, Soldier, but yeah, it makes me happy.”

“As long as you're happy, then it's a good thing,” he said.

She smiled. “What about you and ‘Stevie’?” She said with a smile.

“Fuck you.” He was smiling back, no heat in the words. “We. _ I _ am figuring things out. It's just. I mean, when I was 6, I saw our neighbor forcibly ripped from his home because his sister found out he was fucking a fairy and had him institutionalized. It's not something you can just forget, even though that was decades ago, it feels like such a short time ago.”

“If you could lock away from the rest of the world and just  _ be _ ?” She asked.

“We'd be together.” He hadn't planned to say that, but the words were out, and he knew they were true.

“Then, just keep working to get there.”

“What about you? If your past was erased and you could just be, would you be here?” He asked, very ready to have the conversation off him again.

“I don't know.” She said honestly. “I always wanted kids. But the ceremony. So, these three are my kids. I love them like they are my own. But, if the KGB hadn't happened, I don't know if I'd be here.” He nodded. “But, given my past is mine, there isn't anywhere else I want to be.”

He turned at the sound of the front door opening. Steve poked his head in. “Hey, Buck, can you come help? Clint and I are doing a little building.”

He looked at Natalia, who smiled. “Yeah, I'm coming.” 

He followed Steve out to the porch. “Where's Clint?” He asked as he took the few steps to the grass and stopped.

Steve paused a few steps ahead. “Round back, why?”

He covered the space to Steve, snaked a hand behind his neck, and kissed him hard. Steve's whole body responded, pulling him close, as Steve's hand slipped behind his back to pull him in. As quick as it started, he stepped back. Steve let him go, looking baffled. “No reason!” He said with a smile, before strolling towards the edge of the house.

It turned out the  _ little building _ Steve was referencing, was a 500 square foot add-on to the back of the house. It felt good to work on the building. 

He was surprised when Natalia appeared with lunch. She and Clint sat shoulder to shoulder, backs against the house. He sat opposite them and Steve sat close beside him. As they ate, he watched how Clint and Natalia interacted. They were sitting close enough their arms bumped when they moved. The contact was deliberate, it had to be, as much as it happened, but neither seemed to care. Had they always been like that? As he thought back to the times he'd seen them interact, he could remember it happening, he just hadn't thought anything of it. 

By contrast, he was hyper aware of Steve's arm as it bumped into his shoulder. Steve seemed to be going out of his way to bump him as they ate. His mind kept replaying Natalia's words, if he could just shut the world away. 

After lunch, they resumed work on the add-on. Clint pulled his shirt off and tossed it, before continuing work. As the sun beat down on him, he followed suit, reaching behind his head, and pulling his shirt over his head, and tossing it in the rough direction Clint had thrown his.

He was aware of Steve's eyes on his back. He realized that this was probably the first time Steve had a really good look at the myriad of scars that dappled over his back and shoulders. He forced himself to focus on building, rather than Steve watching. 

“Hey, Bucky, can you help with this?” Clint asked. He glanced up. Clint was facing away from him, supporting a wall frame. He hesitated as his eyes crossed over Clint's back. Thin, white scars spread across his back. He opened his mouth, planning to ask, before stopping himself. If Clint answered, then asked about his own scars, he wouldn't want to answer, so he wouldn't try to get Clint to tell him. 

He stabilized the frame as Clint attached the supports. They worked in comfortable silence until Laura opened the window to call them in for dinner. He realized, as they walked around the building, that he hadn't even heard her truck in the drive. He was a better tracker than that. He should have noticed. He pushed the thoughts away. He didn't have to do that anymore. That was over.

As soon as they stepped in, Laura shooed them to get cleaned up. He followed Steve into their bedroom. As he shut the door, he just had time to register movement, before Steve's body pressed his into the wall, their lips crashing together. A soft grunt slipped out of his mouth as his back hit the wall. Steve's tongue immediately took advantage of the opening to slip through his parted lips. He felt frozen. His brain, which had been fully focused on how he'd missed hearing Laura come home, struggled to catch up with the sudden change. Just as he began to reach up, Steve froze, then jerked back.

“Shit, Buck, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have--.”

He reached up and grabbed Steve's neck, pulling their lips back together. His hand fisted in Steve's shirt, pulling Steve back until the firm weight of Steve's body pinned him back against the wall. Steve's hands moved up to cup his cheek. He lost himself in the smell and feeling of Steve.

When Steve leaned back, he could feel the thunder of the other man's heart where their chests pressed together. “Sorry, Bucky, I shouldn't have--”

He bit Steve's lip hard enough for the other man to exclaim. “Buck, I'm serious, I'm trying to--.”

He bit him again.

“Fuck!” Steve pulled back, a tiny drop of red just visible, before Steve's tongue swiped it away.

“If I need an apology, I'll tell you.” He said easily.

Steve frowned but didn't fuss. He headed to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. He wet it in the sink before running the cool cloth over his face, then across his chest, clearing away the worst of the sweat. Steve followed him in and stood next to him. After a moment, Steve held out a hand for the cloth. He wasn't done with it but he found himself passing it over anyway.

Steve reached past him and re-wet the cloth before running it over his back. The chill of the cloth ran a shiver into his skin and he let his eyes drop closed. Steve's hand moved gently across his shoulders and he let his head fall forward. “I was surprised you took your shirt off. Happy but surprised.”

He shrugged minutely, not wanting to break the contact with the cloth, as Steve focused on where metal met skin. “Not the only one with scars, apparently.” He said.

Steve hummed, but was otherwise silent, as he worked slowly across his back. Steve handed the cloth back. He finished wiping down his chest before tossing the cloth in a hamper.

He grabbed another washcloth, wet it under the faucet, before turning to Steve and waiting. It took Steve several moments to realize. Steve pulled off his shirt and tipped his chin back. 

He stepped forward carefully and began to wipe, starting at Steve's neck. Steve's eyes dropped closed as he worked slowly across his chest, wiping away the sweat he'd built up working outside. Steve lifted his arms, when prompted, letting him wash under his arms and down his ribs. 

As he worked, he took mental notes of all the scars that dotted Steve's body. While nowhere near as numerable as his body, Steve had a fair few scars. Most he could recognize, bullets seemed the most common, though there were many long, thin scars. Knife cuts, maybe?

He pressed his left hand into Steve's shoulder until the man turned. He rinsed the cloth, then continued. It was strange to see the divot of Steve's spine running straight up the middle of his back. Without thinking, his left hand moved to trace the curve that matched his memories. Back then, Steve's spine hadn't left a depression between the muscles, as it did now. Then, every bone of Steve's crooked spine had stood out in sharp contrast through his too thin skin. Steve's back vibrated as he spoke. “Serum fixed it.”

He smiled, moving his finger to run straight up the line of Steve's spin. A shiver rippled over Steve's muscles. He moved the cloth up to the back of Steve's neck and returned to washing him off. He worked slowly across the breadth of Steve's wide shoulders and slowly down. Steve's whole body seemed to melt at the attention. A sudden thought slipped through his mind. Had Steve had a relationship with anyone since he'd thawed out? A girl... boyfriend? Surely there had been someone in the intervening years. 

As he finished wiping down Steve's back, he pulled his shoulder again, turning Steve to face him. He slid a hand up Steve's jaw, to cradle it, before bringing their lips tougher. He forced himself to stay light and gentle this time, even as Steve moved closer, pressing their chests together. Steve's skin always felt so much warmer than his own. The warmth of Steve's body soaked into his skin as they stayed like that, pressed together and unhurried. When they broke apart, he dropped his cheek to rest on Steve's shoulder. Steve's breath tickled his hair as they stood together.

“We should get out there.” Steve said finally. He nodded before dropping a kiss on Steve's collar bone. He followed Steve back out of the bathroom. Steve tossed a shirt at him before pulling one on himself. As they stepped out of the bathroom, Clint was coming down the stairs, though he looked like he'd showered completely, rather than just rinsing off.

Everyone was sitting around the table as they entered the room. Lila had obviously had a good day, if the constant stream of words coming from her was any indication. Cooper spoke occasionally but was much less animated than his sister. 

After they finished eating, Steve spoke. “I'm going to go draw for awhile.”

Laura looked towards the windows. “Isn't it a bit dark to do that now?”

Steve smiled, “No, it's fine. I like drawing at night.”

When Steve returned from their bedroom, he followed him out into the cool night air. “So, when you going to let me look through the rest of that sketchbook of yours?” He asked as Steve looked around. He recognized that expression. 

Steve didn't answer, till he spotted somewhere he liked the looks of, and began moving towards it. “It might bring back too many memories. It's not good for you to-”

“Fuck that. You’re just trying to hide your dirty pictures, like you did when we were kids.” It had the desired effect. Steve froze, mouth opening and closing.

“You. I. Why the fuck were you snooping around my bed, anyway?” Steve snapped.

“Really? Plannin’ ta pick that up, after how many decades?” He laughed. Even in the low light, he could pick up the red tinting Steve's ears and cheeks.

“How many more did you draw? After that morning?” He couldn't stop the smile spreading over his face.

Steve turned and began to walk in the other direction. “Stevie!” He caught up in two strides, his hand catching Steve's arm. “Hey. Why ya running off?”

“You're being an ass.” Steve snapped. He pulled Steve around and realized, with a sinking in his stomach, Steve was actually upset.

“I'm sorry, Stevie. I wasn't tryin’ to make you upset. Jus’ playin’. You know I love your drawings, ever since we were kids. Ain't gotta show me, if you don't want to.”

Steve stood stock still for another moment before be relaxed a bit, shoulders softening. “Bruce said it wasn't good to show you anything that may force memories to surface.” Steve said, his tone still clipped.

“I'm rememberin’ on my own, Stevie. Please?” He watched Steve's expression carefully. Either this would work or Steve was about to be immensely more pissed at him for trying to manipulate. “You know I've always loved your drawings.”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment. “Ok, but once we’re inside, ok?” 

“Sure, Stevie. Of course.” He said easily. “Come on, I want to watch you draw.” He pulled gently on Steve's arm to turn him back to the spot he'd been heading towards.

Steve went but there was a marked tightness in his shoulders. He hoped drawing would ease whatever anxiety Steve felt. They ended up back on the hill, where they had first kissed, the night before. 

Steve sat and opened the sketchbook to a blank page. He watched as Steve's eyes tracked the tree line, picking ideas, before he began. 

He stretched out on his side, in the cool grass, next to Steve. He cushioned his head on his right arm and let his eyes close. After several silent moments, he heard the scratch of charcoal on paper. 

Opening his eyes, he watched Steve's expression. The hard tension in his body eased, as his eyes darted from his sketchbook, to the point he was drawing, and back. He watched with interest, the way the muscles of Steve's arm twitched and jumped, as he worked quickly to get the image down. He remained still, listening to that familiar scratch. They could just have easily been back in Brooklyn, sitting in the park at night. 

He remembered having to drag Steve back inside, one night, after it had snowed. It had taken more than an hour to warm his fingertips, which had been almost frostbitten in the cold. Steve had the flu so bad, after that, he'd forbidden the smaller man to ever go outside to draw when it was that cold. He'd been scared Steve was going to die, that week. One of innumerable times, in their childhood, he'd had that fear.

When Steve turned the page to start another, he sat up, settling next to Steve to watch. As he watched, trees and grass bloomed across the page. A moon full and white, very different from the actual moon that was rising slowly higher in the sky, cast dark shadows on the trees. He watched Steve's face as he became steadily more focused on his work. His back and shoulders hunched, as lines of concentration marked his face. This was the Stevie he remembered, whispering out through Steve's larger body. He smiled. “‘Chu lookin’ at?” Steve asked without looking over at him.

“You.” He said easily. 

Steve hummed but continued to work. Apparently satisfied with whatever final touches he'd been applying to the trees, Steve turned and began to draw the outline of the barn, bathed in moonlight. He'd switched to pencils, which meant they would be out here awhile. 

He remembered driving Steve crazy, when they were kids, constantly fidgeting and trying to talk to Steve as the other man worked. Now, though. He stretched back out on the grass, his back lightly pressing on Steve's leg, and let his eyes drift shut. He listened to the soft scratch of the pencil as Steve worked. He took a deep breath and just let time go. He wasn't sleeping but time seemed to drift as easily as if he were. 

“Buck?” Steve's voice pulled him back to the present. “You ok?”

“I'm good, Stevie.” He let the words drift off his tongue without opening his eyes.

“Were you sleeping?”

“Just relaxed.” He said. Steve's hand rested softly on his ribs. The heat from Steve's hand, and the following silence, let him drift back out. He didn't notice when Steve removed his hand nearly as much as he noticed the returning scratch of the pencil and the chill that settled where Steve's hand had been.

The sound of the page turning in Steve's sketchbook brought his eyes open. Steve shifted, his crossed leg moving to rest up the length of his back, as Steve turned slightly to draw something else. As the scratching resumed, he let his eyes drop back closed in the quiet. Somewhere, an owl hooted and the soft sounds of crickets chirping whispered through the quiet wind.

When Steve spoke again, his voice sounded loud after the silence. “Ready to go inside, Buck?” He pulled himself back to the present and sat up slowly. His arm whirred as he stretched it over his head. He stood and, out of habit echoing through the decades, held a hand to pull Steve up. Steve took it without question but, unlike when they were children, he didn't stumble when he stood. The serum had relieved the bones that used to creak and lock up after long times sitting and drawing. 

Steve stepped closer, pulling him into a hug. He buried his nose into Steve's neck, pulling in a long, slow breath and enjoying the familiar smell of Stevie, before breaking away. “Quit stalling, Stevie. I get to see your pictures, now.” He pulled Steve towards the house.

Steve huffed but followed easily. Inside, Natalia, Clint, and Laura all sat, curled up together under a blanket, on the couch, watching a movie. Natalia's head rested on Laura's shoulder. If they noticed them entering, they didn't speak

Steve crawled up on the bed and leaned back against the headboard. He crawled up and settled between Steve's legs, leaning back against his chest. Steve wrapped his arms around him and hugged him. He dropped his head back onto Steve's shoulder, enjoying the closeness.

Steve reached over and grabbed the sketchbook and started to pass it to him. As he reached, Steve pulled it back. “If things get bad, or the memories get too much, we are stopping.”

“Fuck you.” He said, reaching for the book. Steve moved it farther from his grasp. 

“Buck, I'm serious.” 

“So am I.” He said, twisting to try to reach the sketchbook. His fingers grabbed the edge and he pulled lightly but Steve didn't let go.

“If you don't agree, I'm putting it away.”

“Fuck you. You don't get to make choices for me.”

Steve seemed to pause, if only for a moment. “If it's getting bad, we will stop and talk, but if you can't stop and talk, then I'll make that choice.”

He huffed. For a moment, he considered arguing more but he doubted Steve would budge. He turned enough to be able to glare at Steve, before giving him a peck on the lips. “Fine. Gimme.”

Steve sighed but passed the sketchbook over. Steve leaned forward and dropped his chin, where metal met skin, on his shoulder. He angled his head so their temples touched before opening the book. 

The first few pictures he remembered from before, the window in the apartment, the park, the general store. Next should have been the picture of them at Christmas but that picture remained in his bedroom, resting safely on top of his notebook.

Instead, the next picture was another taken at Christmas, this time of he, and Steve, and both his sisters. He remembered them but it was still strange to see them smiling up from the page. 

The next one was a picture of the front of the school. Had the paint peeled like that when they had been in school? He didn't remember.

Another picture of the school, this time the school yard, was next. He recognized the spot he'd stopped Steve getting beaten up.

He paused on the next picture. His Ma and Steve's, smiling. Steve's Ma looked happier than he ever remembered seeing her. Neither woman showed the tired lines they had in life. Steve's Ma had always been prone to darkness under her eyes from working such long nights. They both looked happy. 

The next picture made him smirk. It was him, Steve had made him pose for an art class. He would have been maybe fifteen. He remembered getting bored. He'd moved too much and Steve scolded him. “If you wanted someone who don't move, go find a statue.”

Steve chuckled, the sound warm and gentle in his ear. “I swore I'd never ask you to model again after that day. But then..” Steve reached over to turn the page. It was a drawing of him, sleeping, stretched out on the couch, “I figured out as long as you were asleep, you were the perfect model.”

The next two were his parents’ headstones. One, how he remembered when they were kids, smooth and new. The next, the stone was faded and mossy, the edges worn with time. “You went to see their graves?” He said softly.

Steve rested his chin back against his shoulder. He felt the weight of Steve's body sag against him as though he leaned towards the picture. In the second picture, a beautiful white rose lay on each grave. Steve's Ma loved roses. Any time Steve managed to save up 25¢, he would get her one. She would always scold him for spending money like that but the way she had smiled made Steve so happy.

The next picture, he recognized right away. He'd posed this time, too. He stood at attention in his kit, the night before he'd gone to basic. He noticed immediately a picture, covered in clear plastic, taped to the opposite page. The original picture. “Stevie, you still have the sketchbook I got you?” He asked, a warmth spreading in his chest. He'd saved back wages, for months, to be able to afford the leather bound notebook. He'd seen Steve eyeing it every time they passed the shop. The night before he left for training, he'd given it to Steve. 

He felt Steve smile against his cheek. “I always kept it with me. It was in my gear at the Smithsonian.”

“Hopefully they didn't open it.” He knew the kind of things Steve had sometimes drawn in that book.

“Fuck you.”

He slipped his right hand into the plastic sleeve to touch the original. It felt like going back in time, watching as Steve studied him. He remembered what they had done, after the drawing, and he turned the page.

The next picture did nothing to help the memories. He recognized it at once as the picture he'd pulled from Stevie's mattress. The original was taped to the opposite page. The original had been barely distinguishable, for what it was, smooth lines with no detail, just catching movement. Steve had been careful. It had only been his familiarity with Steve's work, plus the fact it’d been under the mattress, that had allowed him to so easily recognize it back then.

The new drawing, however, was completely detailed, drawn in Steve's preferred hyper realistic style. “Stevie!” He scolded, fighting hard to keep the happiness out of his tone. 

Steve buried his face in his neck and made an unintelligible groaning noise. The next three pictures were ones he recognized, redone from their original. He continued to scold with each new turn of the page.

When they were younger, even after they started having sex regularly, this was always Steve's reaction to him seeing these kinds of drawings. As if, somehow, him seeing them made it more real. He didn't have to see Steve's face to know he was flushed bright red. 

After the four he'd redone, the next six were completely new or, at least, ones he'd never seen. Different positions than he'd remembered Steve ever drawing, ones he was pretty sure they’d not done. “What have  _ you _ been looking up, Stevie?” He said, completely unable to keep the smirk out of his tone. Steve groaned and refused to move from his new position, nose buried in his neck. 

He turned to the next picture, already preparing to tease Steve a bit more, but stopped. The drawing was of the old apartment but the style was off. The details replaced by lines that looked almost shaky. The details seemed to lean and tilt, making them look almost like smoke. It made his stomach churn a bit. 

The next drawing was the same. It left no question, it had to be after Steve was alone in the old place. When depression had made it too hard to draw but he'd still been desperate to get things on paper.

The next page looked like the start to a face, there were rough lines he'd seen Steve draw to start roughing out how a face should be shaped, an eye was about half filled in, but that was it.

Page after page of half drawings and rough, shaking lines. It was hard to look at. Steve remained buried in his shoulder. He didn't offer an explanation. It wasn't needed. He understood.

Then the drawings changed again. A view from Stark Tower, still rough and heavy, but lacking some of the twisted, off kilter lines. 

Natalia, the soft smirk she had when she was telling a joke, was the first image that was back to Steve's style. Well, mostly, something still felt off. Next was Tony, in and out of the suit. Then Bruce, and giant, green Bruce. A man he recognized as Thor from the pictures Natalia had shown him. Then Loki. 

As he looked at the drawing of Loki, he recognized what was off. He'd been drawing from memory, so certain features were exaggerated, just slightly, from reality. He flipped back to Natalia. Steve shifted from his position still buried in his neck. 

He studied the picture of Natalia again. Her eyes sparkled with a happiness that, even when she laughed, never really appeared in life. 

He flipped the page. Tony’s face was firm, like he was shouting, even though in the picture, his expression was neutral. 

Bruce looked smaller than normal, the scientist’s coat falling lower than it should. The next picture, the opposite, limbs slightly overlong, making the green Bruce taller and broader. 

Loki, it was easy to spot the difference. His face was spread in an almost feral grin. His canine teeth sharp like a wolf’s. Steve had missed the strange glint in the man's eyes, too. Maybe he'd imagined it. He should look again.

The next few pictures were the aliens that attacked. He hadn't watched the footage close enough to see what, if any, differences were there. Steve returned his chin back to his shoulder, watching the pictures. He realized, belatedly, that the ones from when Steve was so depressed might be hard for him to see, too.

After that, most of the pictures were of nature or cities. Some he recognized as different views from the tower but others were places he'd never seen. He didn't ask questions and Steve didn't offer information, so he focused on just enjoying the amazing detail that had returned to Steve's art.

He was startled, after more than two dozen landscapes, to see his own face looking back at him. Or, rather, his eyes. It was obvious Steve hadn't yet figured out he was the asset. The face mask covered his nose and mouth, the black around his eyes was so heavily done, it had smeared out into the rest of the picture. It was only half done, his face completely shaded, while the rest was faded into rough sketch lines.

The next picture was him as well, mask and goggles obscuring his face. He held a gun in his right hand, his left reaching back for a grenade. A third was closer on his face. His eyes were wide with terror but his face completely expressionless. 

The next picture was of his home in Bucharest. Steve hadn't drawn anything those years he looked. He turned and kissed Steve's cheek. Steve flashed him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Then, a new drawing of him asleep. Pup was burrowed into his chest, her face just visible below his beard. He looked relaxed, a smile just playing on the corners of his lips. The next was a different night, if the clothes Steve had drawn him in was any indication. He was on his back, body tense, a nightmare.

The next was of him leaning on the wall, two plates of his arm sat on the floor. Steve had obviously been going from memory but he'd still managed to get a lot of the internal workings perfect. The whole picture was black and white, like all of Steve's other drawings, save a single red line. He'd gone in and, using a red pencil, drawn the red line in his arm.

“It's just going to be me from now on, isn't it?” He said playfully, turning the page to find him asleep in their apartment on the couch.

“Mostly.” Steve said with a shrug.

The next picture showed him in Tony's lab. A look of wonder played across his face as he watched Tony manipulating the scan that floated before him. “Fuck you. I did  _ not  _ look like that.” He complained.

“You  _ always _ look like that down there.” Steve argued back. “Did when Howard showed you stuff, still do when Tony does.”

He glared at Steve before continuing. It was strange to watch the transformation of his expressions through Steve's eyes. The pictures started out set, almost no expression, then little by little opening up. One page was just his face, open wide as he laughed at something. A single tear threatened to fall from his eye.

The next, in stark contrast, was almost indistinguishable from single lines on a page. It took him several minutes to recognize it was him, sitting stone still, after the first attempt at the trigger. The lines, unlike his normal smooth, easy strokes wobbled. Steve's hands had been shaking when he drew it. This wasn't a drawing because he'd wanted to, it was a desperate attempt to get a horrible image on paper, so maybe it would leave his mind. 

He turned the page. Another image of the trigger, this time completely different. Where the other image were barely understandable, the next could have been taken with a camera. He was on the floor, kneeling. His arms rested behind his back, his chin tilted up. The light from the window cast a glint off his left arm. His eyes were set but his expression calm. A single strand of hair fell into his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at Steve, who, to his surprise, blushed and ducked back into his shoulder without replying. 

He frowned at the reaction. Did Steve…? He made up his mind. “What'sa matter, Stevie?” He purred, before waiting with genuine curiosity, for the response. If he'd misread the reaction, Steve would argue or pull back up, but, instead, he burrowed in farther and remained silent. Hmm. So, Steve liked him on his knees. He filed that away for later use.

It was five more pictures before Steve poked his nose back out of his neck. He smirked as he recognized himself, laying out under the moonlight, just a few hours before. Then, the three he'd watched Steve draw. He thumbed through the rest of the book, to be sure it was empty, before passing it back. He considered trying to get more information about the kneeling picture but thought better of it. “You really are an amazing artist, Stevie.” He said gently.

Steve shrugged. He never would agree, even when they were kids, that he was any good. Steve's arms wrapped around him and he buried back into his shoulder. He pushed back against Steve's chest, since he couldn't really return the hug. After several minutes, Steve sat back up. “Ready for bed?”

He glanced at the clock. “Yeah.” He stood. Grabbing a pair of Steve's pajama pants from the bag, he lobbed them at Steve's head. Steve caught then before they could hit. 

“Punk.” Steve said, though a smile played across his face. He changed and crawled into bed. The soft mattress felt amazing after building all day. The mattress shifted as Steve settled next to him. He caught Steve's cheek and pulled him in for a kiss. Steve hummed softly against his lips. 

Before Steve had a chance to deepen the kiss, he pulled back, wrapping his left arm around Steve's middle, and bodily dragging him close, then pulling him till Steve's back pressed against his chest. He dropped a kiss on the back of Steve's neck. “Night, Stevie.” 

Steve pulled his pillow over and squirmed a bit, settling in. “Night, Buck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His eyes snapped open but the images of the person he'd been strangling didn't fade. The light faded slowly from their eyes as he watched. He was standing, breath coming in tight gasps. Steve was snoring quietly. He should go back to bed. He tried to take a deep breath, calm his pounding heart, but his skin felt too tight. He needed to move. He would take a run outside, then come back to bed. 

He slipped out of the bedroom door without waking Steve. His hand was on the front door handle when he heard footsteps in the kitchen. Maybe Natalia was awake. He rounded the corner to see Clint's back as the other man walked to the fridge.

“Clint.” He said. The other man didn't acknowledge him. Instead, Clint opened the fridge door and reached for something. “Clint!” He tried again. Clint pulled something out of the fridge, turned, and jumped.

“Bucky! I didn't expect anyone to be awake. One sec.” He pointed to his ear then moved past and back upstairs. Clint returned a few minutes later, fitting the comms into his ears.

“Sorry, man. Want one?” He held up the bottle still in his hand.

“Sure.”

Clint passed a bottle out of the fridge. He sat at the table and Clint leaned against the counter. “So, why are you awake?” he asked. He popped the cap off the bottle and took a long, slow drink.

“Same reason as you, I figure.” Clint said, “Nightmares.” 

He nodded. 

“Listen, Bucky, I mentioned this once, but you weren't really you, yet, so… if you ever need to talk about the mind control thing…”

“I watched the videos of the attack. Of your mind control. What did he want with you?”

“A body guard the Avengers wouldn't shoot, mainly. He used me for information. Made me tell him everything I knew about Nat, Bruce, Tony; anything he could use. To kill people that got in the way.” Clint said, before finishing off the bottle and grabbing a second.

He nodded. 

“I was able to fight him, some. I didn't tell him about Laura, even though he asked. I didn't kill Fury. I wish I could have fought more.” He shrugged.

“I fought, tried to remember who I was. I fought for years. Then I just couldn't, anymore. I was fed, I had somewhere to sleep, orders to follow. It was just easier to pretend it wasn't happening. Just follow orders. They stopped having to wipe my mind, freeze me. Almost two years, just being able to  _ be. _ Then the memories came anyway.” He paused to take a drink. If Clint cared he'd stopped fighting, he hid it well, so he continued. 

“After that, I helped with the Winter Soldier program for another 6 months. After that, I wasn't ever out long enough to fight. Different handler every few times. Every handler was different in how they did things but it was all pretty much the same till the last one.” He stopped, trying to remember the man's name. He could see his face.

“Pierce.” Clint supplied. The word hit like a knife to the stomach but he forced himself to nod. 

“Yeah. Only handler to refuse to let me go over everything. More than anyone, he… In the new handler thing, what I have to say to each new person, one of the first things is a section that I'm not a person. Just a weapon. For some reason, he took that to heart, more than most. He wouldn't feed me, give me anything to drink. If they offered, and I said yes, it would be even longer before I got anything. By the time I fought Natalia and Steve, I was already weakened. By the Helicarrier, when I just fought Steve, it had been at least a week since I'd eaten. Food was for when missions were successful. In the end, I think it's how I broke the programming and escaped.” He paused to take a long drink. “I remember after I jumped in after Steve, I think I drank more, swimming him back to shore, then I've ever had to drink at once. That water was nasty but I was so happy to have it…” he trailed off.

“So, how'd you get from New York to Romania?” Clint asked, passing him a second bottle and moving to sit at the table.

“It wasn't easy. I found a homeless population I was able to migrate through without drawing much attention. It was months before I could travel more than a few miles in a day. Hydra sent people to find me. They started rounding up anyone who'd seen me. At one point, right before I knew I had to leave, I saw a Hydra officer, one of the junior handlers. He had some of my things with him. I let him see me and he followed me into an alley, where I killed him. After that, I knew I couldn't stay in New York, so I snuck onto a container ship. When we ported, I'd completely drained my body of any strength I'd gained. I had to start over. I used the money I'd stolen to get a map and began to walk to Romania. I stayed off roads and out of cities.”

“I can't believe you survived.” Clint said, leaning back.

He leaned back in his own chair. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Bucky, what's up?”

“Have you always been deaf?”

Clint smirked. “I don't mind talking about it but it's not the nicest story.” Clint paused for several moments before continuing. “Growing up, my father was abusive. He didn't work, either out of laziness or maybe an injury he faked to get disability really was bad. He would stay home and drink, and the more he drank, the more violent he got. Mom did her best but she enabled him. I think he probably hit her, too, before we were born.”

“We?”

“Oh, yeah, I had a brother. Older. Umm. One sec.” He stood and moved to the living room, returning a moment later with a photo. Two boys standing in front of a broken down trailer. They both wore huge smiles. The larger of the two boys had a black eye. If their height hadn't been so different, they could have been twins.

“You don't realize you have it bad when you're that young. At least, I didn't.” Clint said. “Barney was two years older than me. Barney kept Dad off of me, most of the time, and we both kept him off Mom. When Barney started going to school, I caught more of it, since it was just me. One day, he was mad about something, I thought he was going to go after Mom. He punched me and I blacked out. When I came to, I couldn't hear anymore. Dad thought I was joking, so I got hit a lot more often for not answering him. They kept me out of school, convinced the school I was too challenged to be teachable. Mom tried to learn sign language but Dad said she was enabling me. Barney kept learning, though, and teaching me when Dad wasn't watching.”

Clint took a long drink. “One night, some of Barney's friends were going to the circus. They knew we were poor, and invited Barney and I; bought our tickets and everything. Well, Dad found out and was pissed. Drove over and picked us up. He was completely drunk, Mom kept trying to convince him to let her drive. I was sitting on my knees, watching out the back window as the circus tent got farther away. Dad hit, honestly, I'm not sure if he was in the wrong lane and was trying to move back over, or if he just lost control, but he hit a telephone pole going about 70. I flew backwards out the front window, Barney was buckled, he was ok. Mom and Dad died on impact. Barney, I don't know what he did, or how he convinced them, but, when I finally woke up, it was in a circus trailer. We both learned to shoot there. He was probably better than me, honestly. Sorry, that was a bit more than you asked. I think I've had enough of these.” He shook the bottle.

“Damn, Clint. I'm sorry that happened. I'm glad you made it.” He said. Clint smiled.

“It's ok. We all have a story. Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer, if you don't want to.”

“Sure.” He said, honestly curious what Clint was going to ask.

“What was it like? The Red Room?”

He thought for a moment. “Do you really mean the Red Room, or do you mean what was Natalia like in the Red Room?”

Clint gave a wry smile. “Both? I guess. When Nat talks about it, it's only pieces. I know about the tests, the graduation ceremony, the handcuffs. Just thought, maybe if I knew more, maybe I could help more, too, I guess.”

He nodded. “It was as cruel as it was efficient. They figured out brainwashing adults was too difficult, took too much time and resources, so they started young. I didn't have much to do with the young kids, but I know they had infants on site, but they were phasing them out, starting at toddler age. Infants, they found, were failing to grow without more care and they were unwilling to provide it. Natalia was one of the few they started as an infant, that made it. Even at a young age, controlled violence was rewarded, while rage was stamped out. Any child who exhibited kindness or compassion, was killed. They didn't want to waste resources on retraining.” 

He paused to take a drink. Clint didn't ask any questions, so he continued. “When I got there, Natalia was already top of the class. She was eleven or twelve, I think was the age group I was there for. She was incredibly smart, had the attention of most of the girls there, but didn't make friends with anyone. She was as they wanted, plain and simple. I helped with sparring, shooting, running mock trials, and Natalia was always first. Always strongest, always fastest, always the best. I spent most of my time training Niko. He was Natalia's opposite. He was nothing like they wanted. He was strong, but in a brute force kind of way. Fast, but only in spurts. He never was what they wanted, even after two years there.” He paused, wondering what ever happened to the Wolf Spider program.

“Natalia said you left before the ceremony?” Clint asked, cutting across his thoughts.

“I was there for her graduation. I watched them all, watched her pretend to fail. The girls, they are told about the ceremony, but not  _ what _ it is, until the day or two before. I was there when they found out. None of them reacted when they were told, they might have been killed on the spot if they were, but later. I think she took it hardest. She was the only one to try to fail. If she had ever failed, even once in the past, it might have worked. I know, because of it she went last in the ceremony. They made them all sit and wait their turn. Each girl would leave, one at a time. But I didn't see her after.”

He took a drink and waited to see if Clint had anything else to ask. After a moment, Clint spoke, his voice quiet. “Thank you for telling me. I still can't believe she went through that stuff and came out the other side alive, let alone a functional human. Then again, I can't believe all the shit you went through, and I've _ seen _ a good chunk of that.”

“What exactly was on those recordings?” He asked. “There was always a camera in the room, I stopped paying attention to if it was actually recording.”

Clint threaded a hand through his hair, “Way more than I ever want to remember. It was hours and hours. It took us weeks to get through because it was too much. I couldn't have...I would have given up. I could never have come out the other side.” 

“It's different when it's happening.” He said. As silence filled the room, he became aware just how tired he felt. When the silence continued to stretch, he spoke. “I think I'm going to head back to bed.”

“Me, too.” Clint said, tossing the bottles. “Thanks again for sharing. Like I said before, I'm here if you ever need to talk about any of it, really. Just let me know.”

“I will. Thank you.”

He slipped back into the bedroom. Steve’s whole body looked tense. He crossed the room and crawled back into bed, pulling Steve to him. The other man woke with a start before rolling closer and wrapping an arm solidly round his waist. He rolled onto his side and let Steve pulled him close, till his back was pressed solidly into Steve's chest. Steve dropped a few sleepy kisses onto his shoulder before settling in. He closed his eyes and, even before he was aware it was happening, drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Borderlands 3 is ruling my life atm!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

August 17

He woke slowly to the feeling of fingertips over his ribs and stomach. He yawned and rolled into Stevie's chest, burying his face in the other man's chest. “Morning Buck.” Steve's chest vibrated as he spoke.

“Too early.” He complained, wrapping his left arm around Steve's waist.

Steve chuckled and dropped a kiss onto the top of his head. “It's actually later than usual. You were just up too late last night.” Memories of talking to Clint came flooding back to mind. 

“Nightmare.” He mumbled.

“You could have woken me up. You know that right?” Steve said, his voice soft.

“Needed to move. Would have normally gone down to see Tony but…” 

“Yeah Tony is a bit far away right now.” Steve's fingers moved over his side, just light enough to almost tickle. He squirmed, not willing to move enough to bat Steve's fingers away. Steve stretched his fingers out, rubbing gently.

“I want Natalia to help with the trigger today.” He said. Steve immediately tried to lean back and see his face but he kept his chin tucked.

“Here?” Steve asked finally.

“She won't be home any time soon. She will be here for months at least helping with the baby.”

“What if she triggers it though?”

“I'll warn Clint ahead of time. He and I were talking about brainwashing last night. He will understand why I need to do this.”

He could practically hear Steve's mind working as he tried to come up with any other reasons. The longer Steve remained silent the more he knew he'd won. Finally Steve grumbled, “I don't like it.” 

“I know Stevie.” He leaned his head back to catch Steve's pouting lips on a soft kiss. Steve pressed a hand on his right shoulder, pushing him firmly back into the bed. As he went Steve's tongue demanded entrance to his mouth. As soon as his lips parted Steve's tongue darted in. 

He bought his left hand up to catch Steve's hair, holding him close. Immediately Steve's left hand moved to press on his left arm pinning it to the bed. He grumbled into Steve's mouth and could feel the edges of Steve's lips curl up in response. He returned as good as he got, tongue battling with Steve's as the weight of Steve's body pinned him to the bed.

Steve jumped back like he'd been shocked. “Shit Buck sorry I--”

“Would you shut the fuck up and kiss me?” He snapped, unable to move up enough to catch Steve's lips with the other man pinning him. Steve hesitated, eyes searching his. After a moment Steve dropped back down, bringing their lips back together. He sighed happily into Steve's lips as Steve shifted his weight back over him. The kiss was slower. 

Distantly he was aware of the sounds of the kids coming down the stairs and talking from the living room. Steve must have heard them too. Steve rolled off, flopping next to him on the bed. “I'm going to go find Natalia.” He said. 

Steve glared at him then sat up leaning on the headboard. He tossed Steve's clothes at him before pulling out his own and dressing.

Clint, Laura, Natalia and the kids all sat at the table eating. A chorus of greetings acknowledged him as he entered the room. He hesitated for a moment, not really wanting to involve the others, especially the kids who might ask questions. He met Natalia's eyes. “Вы можете помочь с помощью триггера”  _ Can you help with the trigger? _

Before she could respond Clint spoke. “Это хорошая идея здесь?”  _ Is that a good idea to do here? _

He stared at Clint who managed to hold a straight face for a moment before laughing. “You really think Nat and I could be friends this long without me leaning Russian?”

“I figured out a ways, past the treeline just in case?” Clint nodded and Natalia spoke.

“Steve's ok with it?” Then when he raised and eyebrow, “I heard about you sneaking around.”

“For f…I didn't sneak and he doesn't control what. I get to do.”

“Yeah, I know about it.” Steve's voice came from over his shoulder. “Steve Clint knows Russian maybe we can try with him too.”

He nodded looking back at Clint and Natalia who both agreed.

An hour later the kids having started their schooling with Laura and Nathaniel down for a nap the four of them moved out past the tree line around the house. Clint led them to a circle of trees with a small clearing in the middle.

Steve spoke, “So Nat will say the phrase first then if Bucky gives the ok Clint will go immediately after. We haven't tested back to back yet so if it's a problem I'll stay out here with him. Everyone good?” He nodded along with Clint and Natalia.

He moved to the middle of the clearing and stood, the memory of the picture Steve has so carefully drawn flashing across his mind. A smile spread across his face as he locked eyes with Steve before dropping effortlessly to his knees. 

A shiver passed over Steve, clearly visible even though he was several feet away. He watched Steve's throat work as he swallowed. 

Natalia moved between him and Steve and he forced himself to focus on what came next. Natalia's whole body looked tense, ready to fight. When she spoke the words sounded cold and harsh. He focused on the feeling of the grass under him and the soft breeze as it whispered through the trees. His stomach turned as the last word was spoken but he remained on control. “Солдат?”

“Fuck off. Next?” He said with a smile.

He shifted quickly, verifying everything was still under his control as Clint moved forward. Three words in he knew he'd made a mistake to test this now but he couldn't manage to unlock his jaw to stop Clint. He focused on the sounds of nature around him but it didn't stop the feeling like he was balancing on the edge. As Clint spoke the last word a wave of panic rolled over him as he felt the world tilt sideways, he felt himself starting to fall. With every ounce if strength he could call forward he forced himself to cling to the present. 

If Clint called him Soldier or asked if he was ready to comply he didn't hear it as his stomach rolled. He frantically moved his fingertips and toes. He was still in control. He was also confident if he opened his mouth to verify that he might never stop throwing up so he sat still.

“Buck?” Steve's voice was uncertain, worried. He unlocked his jaw but a fresh wave of nausea stopped him from daring to open. “Bucky if you are still in control answer me. Now.” Steve's tone changed, that wasn't a request it was an order.

Before he could stop himself he was speaking. “In control, feel sick.” The contents of his stomach stayed where they belonged but just barely.

He heard Steve speak to Natalia and Clint, then the soft pad of footsteps. Were they all leaving him? He wanted to open his eyes and check but was confident that as much as the world was spinning he would definitely be sick.

“Lay down.” Steve's voice still held the commanding edge. He let himself follow the command without thought. The world rolled as he started to lay down. He jumped when Steve's hands gently guided him down till his head rested on Steve's lap. Steve's fingers began to gently rub across his face. The contact seemed to help with staying focused though it did nothing for the world spinning. 

After several minutes he forced his eyes open. Steve was watching him, bright blue eyes worried. “Feeling better?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.” With his eyes open it was much easier to ignore the spinning sensation.

“Good. How did it go?” Steve pressed, Steve's hand moving to brush through his hair.

He let out a long sigh of contentment before answering. “It seemed to be ok. I felt sick more than I felt like I was losing control.”

Steve nodded. He let his eyes drift shut again. The spinning was still there but not as bad as before. 

“Tony called.” Steve said. He opened his eyes again to focus on Steve's face. “He said they figured out the upgrade and want to do it Saturday. What upgrade is he talking about?”

He frowned. He knew Tony had talked to him about it. What was… “Oh, Peter thought he knew a way I could have full feeling in my left arm. He was working with Tony on it. I guess they figured it out.”

Steve nodded. “He said your phone was turned off?”

He stretched, feeling his muscles start to ease. “Probably dead. Haven't charged it since we got here.” He sat up to sit next to Steve. A grin spread over his face. “So, Stevie likes it when I'm on my knees huh?”

Steve's face went bright red and he stood sharply. “Let's go Buck.” The order seemed to go straight to his legs and he was standing almost immediately. He followed Steve out of the circle of trees and towards the house. 

Immediately a thunk met his ears. He followed the sound to see Cooper with a bow aiming at a few targets. Clint stood next him speaking. Steve moved towards them and he followed. “...doesn't matter. Even if the first one is off from where you were aiming focus on your grouping for now ok?” He heard Clint say as they approached. Cooper nodded and took aim again. The first arrow had missed center by several inches to the left. Cooper took aim and managed to get the next four arrows next to the original. “Much better. Go pull.” Clint said smiling. Cooper slipped over to the target. “Feeling ok Bucky?” Clint asked.

“Yeah I'm good. Just got a little dizzy there.” Clint clapped a hand on his shoulder and smiled. He smiled back easily. 

“We will probably be packing up and heading home after lunch.” Steve said.

Clint didn't seem at all surprised. “Tony texted Nat when he couldn't reach Bucky. We thought you'd probably want to go home and get ready for that. As always you are both welcome back any time. We all love having you here.” 

Cooper returned arrows returned to the quiver on his hip. Clint turned back to talk to him. Steve lead the way back up to the house. Laura and Lila were no longer in the living room. Natalia was holding Nathaniel. “Can one of you boys take him so I can do dishes?” She asked when they walked in. Steve moved forward to take Nathaniel and he sat on the couch. “You feeling alright Soldier?” Natalia asked, pausing to look at him as she passed.

“Yeah I'm good.”

“You sure? Your pupils are blown.”

He blinked. Where they? Steve spoke up, “It takes a few hours for that to calm down. Tony has measured it as an increase in dopamine levels. He can't figure out why. Would be nice if Bruce would come back. Have you heard anything from him Nat?”

“No.” Natalia said, her eyes still holding his for a moment before heading into the kitchen. “Are there any other side effects of working on the trigger?” She asked as she turned on the water in the sink.

He felt Steve's eyes on him for a moment. “He seems to respond to commands differently, like he's following them without thinking. Though I'm not sure if that's just me. I guess we need to test that too.”

“Soldier come here.” Natalia's voice held the same commanding edge Steve's did but he had no problem staying where he was. “Interesting.” Natalia said without turning around. “At least you don't have to worry about him jumping to follow any command he hears after--”

“I'm right fucking here you know!” He blinked, startled to hear anger in his voice. Had he even been upset they were talking about him? He didn't remember feeling it before but now it felt raw and angry, boiling just under the surface of his skin.

“Easy Buck.” Steve's voice was calm. “We know you're here. You are welcome to join the conversation but normally after a trigger you are pretty worn out. Plus I'm pretty sure Tony never told you about your pupils after a trigger so it wasn't anything you'd have been able to talk about.”

The anger he'd felt moments before began to dissolve. In its absence a wave of exhausted rolled over him. He felt dizzy again, this time due to exhaustion. Maybe after Natalia finished the dishes he could talk Steve into a nap with him. He stretched out on the couch and watched Steve. The tiny bundle in his arms looked impossibly smaller against his broad chest.

“Buck? Let's go lay down.” His eyes snapped open. Had he fallen asleep? He stood and followed Steve into the bedroom. Dazedly he stripped to his boxers and crawled under the covers. The last thing he registered was the weight of Steve's arm around his stomach before he fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke slowly, his whole body felt stiff. Stretching he rolled his shoulders trying to work the worst of the knots out. “Feel better?” Steve spoke from behind him.

“Stiff but yeah.” He tried again to roll the tightness from his shoulders.

“When we get home, I'll give you that massage I mentioned weeks ago.” Steve said, dropping a kiss into his shoulder blade, next to where metal met skin. 

He hummed. He rolled out of bed and stood. He wandered around the room picking up clothes and tossing them into the duffle bag. “Buck, come here.” Steve said. His voice held just enough of an edge he knew it was ment to be a command more than a request. He considered ignoring it. He could now, easily. He didn't want to though. 

He crossed to where Steve stood. Steve folded him into a hug and pressed a soft kiss into his lips. He smiled against Steve's mouth, bringing his hand up to the back of Steve's neck. He gently scratched at the short hair at the back of Steve's head. When Steve broke the kiss he kept their foreheads together for several moments.

They rounded up the rest of the clothes before heading into the living room. “Are you two heading out or do you want to stay for dinner?” Laura asked from the table where she sat with both kids. Workbooks were spread across the table. 

“We are heading out I think.” Steve said with a smile. The next few minutes were a whirlwind of hugs and farewells before they stepped out into the porch. Pup made one last lap around the fields before reluctantly following info the Quinjet.

Once they were safely inside the Quinjet he began to realize just how acutely he was ready to be home. The flight back seemed to take longer than he remembered it taking to arrive. They didn't take the Quinjet back to the hanger. Instead Steve set it on the landing pad back at the tower. 

As they stepped into the quiet of their apartment he felt a weight roll off his shoulders.”It is really good to be home.” He said. 

Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “It really is. So Tony was wanting to see you after we got home to go over your arm stuff?”

“I believe I was promised a massage first.” He said, pulling out from under Steve's arm. Steve was smiling. 

“Shirt and pants off, go lay on the bed. I'm going to toss laundry in then I'll be there.”

He followed the directions eagerly. Once in Steve's bedroom he stripped down to his boxers and stretched on the bed. He grabbed one of Steve's pillows and buried his face in it. It felt much longer than he logically knew had passed before Steve entered the room. 

He listened to the soft pad of Steve's feet as he moved to the dresser then moved back to the bed. Steve patted his hip, “Scoot to the middle and up some.” Steve commanded softly. He moved and Steve crawled up next to him and swung a leg over his waist, straddling his hips. 

The pop of a cap told him what Steve had been grabbing. Whatever lotion or oil Steve had smelled familiar, something Steve used in the himself. Steve's hand braced on his shoulder and something ice cold dripped onto his back. “Fuck!” He tried to throw Steve but Steve had prepared for it holding him down without difficulty. “You asshole!” He snapped, his voice muffled by the pillow. 

“Aww I had to.” Steve said, laughing. Steve's free hand moved down to wipe away the lotion. “Always did that shit to me, only fair.” 

He turned his head enough to cast a glare at Steve before settling. He heard the sound of Steve warning the lotion between his hands before Steve's hands moved to his shoulder. He immediately forgot he'd ever been mad. A low groan slipped through his lips before he realized he was even making a sound. 

Steve's hands worked at his shoulders slowly working out the corded muscle. “Fuck Stevie.” He mumbled into the pillow. When the lotion was worked in Steve leaned back in his heels to get more. 

“Hey Buck?” The tip of Steve's finger traced up his back. He knew immediately what Steve was referencing. 

“We switched places.” He said then, “it's the weight of my arm.” Steve's finger followed the curve in his spine. 

“Tony said he could made it lighter. I hate it's messing with your back.” Steve's hands returned to his shoulders and began to rub again. 

“No. I don't want anyone messing with it.” He said firmly. 

Steve didn't press as his hands moved to focus on a particularly stubborn knot by his left shoulder. Silence filled the room as Steve worked. Under Steve's expert hands he began to feel the tension in his corded muscles fade away. Steve worked lower down into his back. “Hey Buck?”

He grinned noncommittally into the pillow. 

“What are these scars from?” Steve's hand ghosted over his ribs then down along his left side.

“Stevie. Don't. Don't torture yourself. You don't want to know.” He said, his voice quiet. 

“I do want to know Bucky. Unless you don't want to talk about it.”

“It was a lifetime ago Steve, it doesn't feel like me anymore. I can talk about it.” Steve had stopped rubbing the palm of his left hand heating the scars he inquired about. He took a slow breath. “It was after they broke… After I was the asset. It was a test. I had to kneel and not move. They set dogs after me. I had to be still till they gave the command. They took my arm off for it so that section of my body was the first thing they could get a hold on.” 

Steve was quiet for several minutes. He wished for some sound. He could hear the echo of the men's laughter as they watched the dogs tear at his flesh. Steve's hand was moving. He touched a new scar, almost hidden in his armpit. As the warmth of Steve's hand settled in his skin the silent request hung between them.

“Back before the red lines, some of the fluid that powered my arm caught fire. It's part of why I don't have more if my arm. It burned up before they could put the fuel out.” 

Steve's hand drew back. Steve was quiet long enough he started to turn over but the pop of the lotion stopped him. When Steve's hands returned to his back he could feel them shaking. Bracing his left arm on the bed he rolled. Steve lifted his hips enough to let him spin under him. Tears were spilling over Steve's eyes. “Stevie.” He crooned. Reaching up he wrapped a hand around the back of Steve's neck and pulled him down. He kissed Steve's tear wet lips then pulled Steve down till Steve's cheek rested on his shoulder. 

It was several minutes before Steve sat up, dropping a soft kiss onto his lips before sitting up and patting his side. “Roll over.” Steve said in a voice that wasn't entirely stable yet. He rolled over, the soft pop of the cap let him know to settle in. 

Steve worked slowly until his whole back felt loose and heavy. When he finished Steve dropped onto the bed next to him. “Listen, I know you don't want to, and you don't have to agree with him or anything but at least look at the prototype Tony made.”

His eyes snapped to Steve's. “There's a fucking prototype?!” 

“It's Tony. He had three prototypes before you even got here. Just hear him out ok and tell him no if you don't like the idea. Promise me?” 

He sighed and nodded. 

“Thank you Buck. I'm going to start dinner ok?”

He stood and retrieved his clothes before heading down to the shop. Tony was bent over a table working on what was definitely the fucking prototype Steve mentioned. He signaled Jarvis to drop the music.

“Hey Tony.” He called. Tony spun in his chair. “Steve said you had some stuff to go over. I'm also supposed to agree to at least look at this prototype.” Tony's eyes lit up. He continued in a rush, “but I want you to completely understand I don't want my arm changed I don't want it replaced and just because I'm looking, the answer is already no.”

Tony seemed completely undeterred by his words. Standing Tony crossed the room to where he had paused, a few work benches away from the prototype a grin on his face. “Steve put you up to seeing it.”

It wasn't a question but he answered all the same. “Yes.”

“Okay come see then.” Tony said moving back to towards the prototype. “But you are making a mistake. This deals with all the issues your arm has now…”

He followed after Tony. Seeing the arm there on the table made his stomach crawl. Memories flooded his mind, watching them take him apart and put him back together a puppet for Hydra. Not a human, just a machine with upgradable parts. 

Tony picked it up and tried to hand it to him but he shook his head. Tony set it back on the bench and began removing the screws to open the plates. It looked remarkably similar to his arm currently until Tony started opening plates.

“So first off no more blood powering anything.” Tony was saying. “It's dangerous for it to be like that. If anything ever happened and the line was cut you'd probably bleed out before the plates could be opened to stop it. This would run on a modified reactor.”

Another wave of nausea rolled over him. “So you would be the only one who could fix it?” He demanded. “What if something happened to you Tony? Then what I'm just fucked forever?”

Tony looked up, surprise clear in his brown eyes. “What? No. I could teach you how to do the maintena--.”

“Besides I've had lines break before and I've been fine.” He snapped. That was a lie, he'd very nearly died and the plate had already been off when it happened but medical tubing doesn't clot like blood vessels so trying to repair it was a nightmare. “And it's part of my blood system now Tony, how exactly would you get rid of it?” 

“It wouldn't be h-”

“You're not a doctor. Are you telling me you're thinking you could do surgery Tony? Because--”

“Ok enough.” Tony snapped, standing sharply. 

He flinched back. It was stupid, he knew Tony wouldn't hit him even if he was being an ass. His heart was thundering in his ears. Tony watched him for a long moment before sitting back down. When Tony resumed speaking his tone was carefully controlled. “It wouldn't be hard to reroute the lines with the modifications this would make.” Tony returned to removing the plates. And uncomfortable silence stretched as Tony finished opening the arm.

“So,” Tony said once the arm was opened completely, “with this design what is left of your upper arm…” Tony reached back himself and without looking grabbed a paper from the bench behind him. He pulled the paper and spread it between them on the bench. “And cap it off. The rerouting for your blood, and the nerves would fit inside.”

He looked down at what Tony was referencing. A fresh wave of nausea hit as he saw the useless stump of his upper arm drawn on the paper. Over it a metal cover fit. The new arm had been drawn a few inches away. 

“The rest of the arm,” Tony's hands came to rest on the arm in front of him “is removable if needed, though it would require a code to remove so it couldn't be done without your consent.” Tony picked up the arm and set it on top of the plans. “There is there arc I mentioned,” Tony pointed to an area in the upper arm. “The low levels of electricity your body naturally produces would be enough to keep it running for about 300 years without any extra power. By switching to the arc's power it increases the strength of the arm about 2 times from where it is now and in theory should allow for even more delicate work than what you can do now.” Tony flipped a plate over. “It uses the mesh idea Peter came up with to allow for 100% feeling over the entire arm. It's also been woven with vibranium so it will be as strong as Steve's shield. And the best part is it's a fraction of the weight. We can work to weight it so it's the same feeling as your other arm. That would take the stress off your back and ribs so you could breathe again and walking wouldn't hurt anymore.”

He had to admit what Tony had made was beautiful but he wasn't going to let anyone fuck with his arm. Never again. What Tony was already planning was more than he wanted. He resisted the knee jerk reaction to tell Tony exactly where he could shove the new arm. “I. I'm sorry Tony. I just. I can't.” Tony nodded. 

“Let's talk about Saturday then.” 

He nodded, relieved when Tony stood and walked away from the bench. They moved over to the couch and Tony sat. He dropped next to Tony willing his stomach to stop doing flips. Every memory of walking into Hydra's lab, a new arm waiting, the knowledge of what was coming. “Hey.” Tony's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. He was more than happy to lean his weight into Tony's side. “So. Saturday.” Tony started. “We will start with installing the mesh on each of the plates. You can be awake for that, hell even help if you wanted. After that we will use the knockout word or drugs whichever you prefer to put you under. I have to move some of the nerve bundles and you remember what that is like. Once we are done you'll have full sensation in your arm.” 

He nodded. “Thank you Tony.”

“Peter wants to be here. Up to you but since it was his idea.”

“Yeah Peter can come. That's fine.” Tony nodded then fell silent.

“So, can I ask  _ why _ you don't want me to upgrade your arm even if it would be better all around or will you bite my head off again?” Tony asked, gently shaking his shoulders.

“Fuck off.” He said with no heat in his voice. He thought for a moment, trying to put the feelings into words. “They. I was just a tool to them, one to take apart and put back together whenever and however they wanted. This arm is fucked in a lot of ways but when I got out I swore I'd never let anyone do anything to my arm ever again.”

“So do you want us to do anything Saturday?”

“Saturday is fine. It's different.” He said quietly.

Tony didn't speak for a moment. “Make sense.” A soft tick made him turn his head. Tony was tapping the reactor. “I don't even like Pepper messing with this so…”

“Why not?” He asked more to keep the conversation going than real interest. The anxiety had faded leaving him feeling heavy and tired.

“That's not fair.” Tony said. “If I'd known I'd have my turn to have to share I wouldn't have asked.”

He was fully aware Tony was joking. He had no question of it but he had no energy to play. “If you don't want to tell me Tony you don't have to.” He said.

Tony shifted, trying to see his face but he kept his head down. “I was just kidding. I. It's. It keeps me alive.” Tony said. 

His head snapped up. Tony's face remained set. He was serious. “Tony. Keeping you alive? How?” He looked down at the soft glow of the reactor under Tony's shirt.

Tony shifted uncomfortably. “I have shrapnel in my chest, pressing in around my heart. The reactor keeps it from moving and shredding my third favorite organ.” Tony hesitated a moment. “Forth favorite, my liver deserves some kind of recognition for all it's years of ser..”

Tony trailed off as he reached up and put a hand over Tony's heart, careful to avoid brushing the reactor in the process. He could feel Tony's pulse jump even without him touching the metal. He had always just assumed the arc reactor was to run the suits. He'd never realized Tony would be dead without it. He let his hand drop away. “Thank you for telling me Tony.” He said quietly. 

The arm around his shoulders tightened as Tony squeezed him gently. “I'm not going to push. I get it. I could have had an operation as soon as I got back, had it removed but this.” He tapped the reactor, “Well, the beta version of this, it wasn't my choice. It was emergency surgery to keep me alive. I don't think I could go under the knife again. I woke up during, the hands, I can't again.”

He nodded as his stomach rolled at the memory of hands in his body as they checked organs. Ready to leave that thought behind he asked, “how would you have even done it? You're brilliant but I'm not sure you have the ability to do actual surgery.”

“Oh, I know a girl. Brilliant girl really. She's been supplying me with vibranium and we have collaborated on a few projects. Probably the only one I'd trust to do surgery on me if it was suddenly required.”

He ran over the women he'd met so far but couldn't began to guess who Tony was talking about. “Does she have a name?” He asked.

“Shuri.” Tony said. “She's the princess in Wakanda. Handles all their tech.”

He remembered looking up Wakanda at one point. Had he seen pictures of anyone with that name? He couldn't remember for sure. He wasn't exactly sure he'd like someone he'd never met to have that much access to his arm. Projects… “Tony have you sent her scans of my arm?” He was sitting up panic setting into his stomach.

“No. I am the only who has access to that information. I wouldn't go sending that to anyone Bucky.” Tony sounded offended that he thought Tony might be spreading the images around. He settled back into Tony's side. “She knows about you. She’s seen the same pictures everyone has from the news and she knew I was working on a prototype arm but that's all she knows.”

He nodded, “Thank you Tony.”

Tony hummed. “So even if you aren't ever going to use it want me to show you how the arm works? I know you wanted me to teach you some about the arc reactor tech. It's modified, not like mine, but still a reactor.”

He looked across the shop to the arm. Knowing it wasn't going to be attached helped. He nodded.

Tony stood and started to cross the shop. “You don't ever have to worry even if I'm making prototypes. No one here is going to strap you down and force a change on you.” 

He paused. Tony noticing he'd stopped turned to look at him. “They videoed the surgeries.” It wasn't a question but Tony nodded all the same. “Sometimes I think they did it just for fun.” He said.

“There were times where medically it was dramatically more difficult to do surgery than a whole host of other options and they still choose to gut you like a trout every chance they got.”

He followed Tony to the bench. Seeing the arm didn't send his stomach flipping now that he knew it wasn't going to be forced on him. He watched as Tony carefully removed the reactor from the arm. It glowed the same soft blue as the one under Tony's shirt. 

Tony leaned onto the bench the glowing blue core in his cupped palms. “So once these get started, very little is needed to keep it running. It's about 99.9998% self sustaining. This one draws the electricity it needs from the static current your body naturally possess.” Tony held out his hands and he carefully took the reactor as it was passed over.

“Is that what yours does? The static?” He asked turning it over in his hands. It had the same almost imperceivable buzz of power that the larger one down stairs possessed. It really was beautiful. The top and bottom were metal with a ring of glass in the middle where the blue shined through. 

“Mine has to power the suits so it needs a bit more than the static. So, maintenance.” Tony leaned forward.

By the time Steve texted him for dinner Tony had completely explained dealing with the core as well as the rest of the arm. It was a lot easier he would give Tony that, lighter too once he'd finally agreed to pick it up. Still he had dealt with the current one just fine so far.

He slid an arm around Steve's waist and kissed him when Steve turned his head. “Ready for Saturday?” Steve asked easily.

“As I'll ever be.” He pinched the back of Steve's arm hard.

“Fuck!” Steve jumped, trying to move away from the sudden pain.

“That's for  _ making _ me ask about the damn prototype. Tony asked you to insist didn't he?” he demanded, only releasing Steve's arm once the full question was out.

“I think you should let them put on the new arm instead. It's doing permanent damage to you while it's on. I remember that,” Steve gestured to his back, “feeling. I would have done anything to make it stop hurting every second of every day.”

“Well I'm not you am I?!” He shouted. “And just because it's something  _ you _ would have done doesn't mean I would. So next time you feel like trying to pressure me into something you  _ know _ I don't want, and you  _ did _ know or you wouldn't have pushed, kindly fuck off!” He folded his arms over his chest.

Steve looked ready to yell back, he knew that expression. Steve squared his shoulders, his body bracing. Then with a long slow breath he relaxed. “You're right Buck. I want to help you and I want you to have an arm that doesn't hurt you but that isn't how I should have gone about it. It's your body and it's your decision. I'm sorry.” 

He sighed and opened his arms. Steve stepped immediately into the hug. Steve's head rested on his shoulder. “It was an asshole thing to do, but I forgive you.” He said. Steve hugged him a bit tighter.

“Thanks Buck” Steve murmured into his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter as an apology for missing last week! Hoping to get at least one more posted by Tuesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

September 2 

He was pacing again. He knew he was. It didn't make sitting still any easier. Over the past two weeks he'd found it increasingly hard to sit still. Something felt off. Something clawing in the back of his mind but he couldn't place it. It felt like his skin was on backwards. Everything felt raw and strange and wrong but no one could figure out why.

He could practically feel the waves of frustration rolling off Steve. Two days into his inability to sit still, it had become very obvious Steve hated when he paced. He'd tried to help. They'd worked out till they were both too tired to stand but still it had only lessened the feeling like something wasn't there.

At first he'd thought it was his arm. It had taken days for the newly relocated nerves to calm. He hadn't slept. That had to be all but as time moved forward and the nerves quieted to a low ache it had become increasingly obvious his arm wasn't the case.

It still felt off, too warm like sitting just a bit too close to a fire but it shouldn't be keeping him awake and it definitely shouldn't be driving him up a wall.

He'd run 20 miles that morning on the treadmill. It helped, being active. It was like scratching right near an itch you couldn't quite reach. He'd come back and tried to watch a show and ended up pacing again.

“Do you need to go to the gym or something?” He heard the controlled calm in Steve's voice. It made the frustration bubble in his own mind. Steve looked exhausted. Dark circles had begun to form under Steve's eyes. He knew he was keeping Steve awake at night as he tossed and turned, unable to calm. He'd only managed an hour or two of sleep the night before but his skin crawled and he wasn't able to stop it. 

Steve had some project he was helping with. He needed to be able to focus. “Yeah. You're right. See you in a bit.” He said, trying to at least sound positive though he felt none of it.

He took the short elevator ride to the gym, relieved he was alone. He flopped against the wall, left arm pushed into the corner. It helped take some edge off. What had Hydra done to his mind? What had they done to cause this? Anger pulled him to his feet and he moved to the speed bag.

After an hour he conceded that it was only tiring him out. He'd picked up early on that being tired but unable to sleep just pissed him off more. He showered off and headed to the lab. Tony had to have  _ something _ else he could check.

Tony had run scan after scan but still had yet to turn up any information as to why he suddenly couldn't sit still, why he felt off. Tony had to have done something when he was moving the nerves, tripped some fail safe or something. 

As soon as the elevator doors opened he flagged Jarvis to mute the music. Tony, who had been hunched over working on some part of the suit, jumped at the quiet. “Tony you have to fix this. I don't fucking care how but you have to.”

Tony turned back to what he was working on. “I told you yesterday Bucky there is nothing to fix. You are fine. Your arm isn't doing anything. I've checked and checked. Whatever it is, it's all in your head.” Tony raked a hand through his hair. “Just look at the scans yourself and let me finish this and I'll try to find something we haven't already done, okay?” 

A projection appeared a few feet away. He ignored it and grabbed a tablet off a nearby bench. The projection immediately appeared on it instead. He paced back and forth across the lab. He'd seen these all yesterday. Unless Tony was intentionally having Jarvis change them real time he couldn't see anything different.

“There has to be something.” He said more to himself than to Tony. “Something we've missed or forgotten, overlooked. I just can't. What could it be? We've scanned for everything. It all looks the same but I can't feel this miserable and there not be somethi--.”

“For fucks sake Bucky sit down and shut up for 10 seconds so I can finish this!” Tony snapped.

His muscles jumped to follow the order before his mind fully processed Tony had shouted. As he sat a wave of calm passed over his frayed nerves. Desperately he tried to call back the misery he'd felt. That couldn't be what was wrong. He couldn't be that fucked up. That all the needed was someone barking orders at him to feel human. 

He set the tablet on the bench dropping his head to his hands. He couldn't pull it back. It was like a salve that had eased every bit of discomfort he'd been feeling. Even his arm felt better. 

He reached back in his mind to think but it made sense. From the moment he'd been at the tower someone had been telling him to do something from day one. Mainly Steve. Steve who was simply used to giving orders, to leading. There had always been something. But since the farm, since they got back they'd been worried about the upgrade then Steve had been working. He hadn't.

His stomach rolled as the sheer weight that it might be something he actually  _ needed _ hit him. He thought he was finally free, finally out of their control. But he couldn't even go a few weeks without someone fucking giving him an order. His heart was pounding, he couldn't breath. He was distantly aware he was having a panic attack but couldn't calm down everything was too much it was closing in on him. 

A hand on his shoulder made him jump. “Bucky. Bucky. Hey come on, breath.” Tony's voice whispered past the pounding in his ears. Tony pulled him to his feet and guided him to the couch. Tony sat, pulling him down with him. “Breath Bucky. It's ok.” Tony said a hand passing through his hair, pushing it off his face. He had no idea how long he sat tucked into Tony's side shaking before he finally pulled in a deep breath. Tony continued a constant stream of instructions and praises as he slowly managed to calm down. 

When he finally managed to sit up he felt completely drained. His hands still shook. “Think you can talk?” Tony asked softly. He nodded, wrapping his arms around his stomach tucking his hands against his sides to mask the trembling. “What was that about?”

“I figured it out. I know what's wrong.” He said, refusing to look over at Tony, or even into the lab. Instead he addressed his knees as he continued. “The orders. When you said, and I. It was. I finally felt ok. For the first time in almost two weeks I was. Fuck!” He stood. He had to move again, this time for an entirely different reason. 

Tony stood next to him. “So wait? I told you to chill the fuck out, you did and it helped. Why are you upset?”

“Why wouldn't I be upset Tony?!” He demanded, frustration making him forget his pulse thundering in his ears. “Hydra fucked my brain so much that I actually…” he couldn't finish. Saying it out loud made it infinitely worse somehow.

“Bucky.” Tony's voice was suddenly soft, like explaining something to a child. “There is literally  _ nothing _ wrong with that. There are hundreds of thousands of… Look.” Tony pulled out his phone and looked at it for a moment. Frustration mounted as he waited. Just as he opened his mouth Tony passed over the phone. “Watch ok. It's not a big deal.”

On the screen was a dame dressed in a black corset and thong, black leather straps on her wrists and round her neck. “Tony, I don't want to watch fucking porn right now!” He snapped trying to hand the phone back.

“Sit down, shut up and watch.” Tony said. “I'm finishing what I was working on.” 

He glared after Tony. A man's voice came through the phone pulling his attention back to the video. The man had ordered the woman into her knees. The image of Steve's drawing whispered through his mind. Slowly he sat on the couch to watch. Tony had set his phone to skip through videos so as one finished the next began. Each video featured a different couple all with the running theme. One gave orders the other followed.

At some point Tony moved back across the shop and sat but he continued to watch. While it didn't stop him from feeling sick every time he tried to find a way to voice what he was feeling it was obvious that none of these people had ever been taken captive, forced to follow orders. He couldn't deny a deep longing that had nothing to do with the fact that it was all very much porn. 

Finally as the eleventh video started he passed the phone back to Tony. Tony stopped the video and slid a hand around his back rubbing lightly. “You're not broken.” Tony said quietly. “Some people are just into it. Nothing wrong with that.”

“If there isn't anything wrong with it why have I felt so miserable?”

“Has something changed in the last two weeks?” Tony asked. He already knew the answer, he'd figured it out himself. Still there had to be some other solution.

“Steve's been busy.” He finally said quietly. 

“So the occasional order has dried up. It's something that gives an endorphin release, which your mind was used to, and it was gone. That wouldn't have shown on a scan. It makes sense.”

“I never. Before Hydra. I.” But he didn't finish the sentence as times even as a kid Stevie had directed him, told him what to do and how and he'd loved it then too. Fucked up since birth. Great.

“There is nothing wrong with it. I can give you a fucking website full of normal everyday people who feel the same way.”

He shook his head. It didn't  _ feel _ normal. It felt fucked up. A sudden thought hit him hard in the chest. How was he supposed to tell Steve. If this was something he was legitimately going to need. How the fuck did you even bring that up.

“Thank you Tony.” He said, his stomach rolling as he spoke. Maybe Tony could tell him, or accidently send the link with those videos. “I need some time to think about everything.”

Tony clapped his shoulder. “I'm here if you need me okay?”

He nodded. Standing he retreated to the elevator. “Pool J.” He said quietly. He wasn't ready to face Steve yet. He has to figure out how the fuck to tell him.

“Jarvis can you lock down the floor?” He asked once he'd verified he was alone. 

“Certainly Sir.” 

He hadn't brought a suit so he stripped down to nothing before showering off and diving into the warm water. He swam absent-mindedly as he tried to figure out how the fuck to tell Steve. Maybe he didn't have to tell. Steve had told him last night he was almost done with the work and this was abnormal. He'd done ok for almost a year without Steve knowing anything. Still it don't feel right not to tell him.

Plus Steve would know. He always knew. He couldn't just pretend to pace and feel agitated and not sleep. He couldn't willing subject Steve to that continued frustration. 

He swam until the sun started to set. He couldn't hide in the pool forever either. As he pulled himself out to dry off Jarvis spoke. “Steve is looking for you. Shall I tell him you wish not to be disturbed?”

“No, it's ok J. Just tell him I'll be down in a few.”

He rinsed and toweled off. When he picked up his pants his pocket vibrated. He pulled out his phone. 9 texts from Steve over the last 5 hours asking if he was ok and where he was with increasing distress. Great. Steve knew he'd not had his phone, or at least not been paying attention to it.

He rode the elevator down to their floor.

“Hey.” Steve said sounding hesitant, like a bomb might drop at any moment. He felt a pang of guilt. Had he been so fucking wired lately Steve felt like he needed to be careful.

“Hey Stevie. Sorry. I was swimming and lost track of time.” Not a lie, not the complete truth.

“Uh huh. And you locked down the floor?”

“I forgot my suit and didn't want to come back down.” Steve's eyes bored into his. He couldn't tell him, not yet. He crossed the room and opened his arms. Steve moved easily into the hug. “I'm sorry if I worried you Stevie.”

“You seem to be feeling better.” Steve said.

_ Shit _ . “Yeah. I. We. Tony and I think maybe we figured it out.” His heart was picking up in his chest. What if Steve thought he was a freak? He'd been ok with the bisexual thing but this might be too much.

As expected Steve's face lit up. “Yeah? What was wrong?” He tried. He genuinely tried to get some words out of his mouth but nothing came. “Bucky? What is it?” Steve's voice went from excited to concerned.

“I'm ok Stevie it's just a lot. Can we eat first?”

Steve hesitated. “Uh...sure Buck.” Steve said quietly. 

They ate in silence. He could feel the waves of anxiety rolling off Steve. He felt guilty for holding him in suspense but how the fuck did you tell someone you were completely fucked in the head.

After dinner Steve left the dishes in the sink and moved them both to the couch. Steve pulled him till he half day half laid against him. “Ok talk.” Steve said, his voice set.

“I. I need. I get endorphins from being ordered around and it hasn't happened lately but my brain was used to it happening and that's why things have been so hard.” The words came in a tumble once he started taking then ended just as quickly. He sat in silence, waiting for Steve's response. His stomach threatened to relieve him of the little food he'd managed to get down.

There was a long moment before Steve spoke. “Babe, is that all?” Steve asked, his voice uncertain. Of all the reactions he'd considered this wasn't one of them. “Do you not remember?” Steve pulled his head up so their eyes met. “I've known that about you since you were 16 and got a boner just because I ordered you to. Why were you so worried to tell me?”

The memory Steve mentioned bloomed in his mind so vividly he had to force himself to stay in the moment. “I thought I was finally away from everything Hydra did and then this--”

“Bucky this isn't Hydra. It's just you. There is nothing bad or wrong about it. Everything is ok.” Steve kissed him hard, his tongue immediately demanding entrance. He opened letting himself relax as Steve's tongue licked into his mouth. Steve didn't hate him and maybe it wasn't entirely Hydra's fault he was fucked.

The kiss ended far sooner than he'd have liked even though he was still breathless when they parted. “Anything else you figured out today that you need to tell me?”

“I think Tony is into it too. He had videos available way too quickly.”

Steve shoved him off the couch. “I could have gone my whole life without knowing that asshole.” They were both laughing. After a moment Steve asked, “Anything else?” He shook his head. Steve's tone immediately changed dropping into an order. “I have work to do. I want you to stay on the couch. You can read or watch TV or just stay quiet. Understand?” He nodded. “If you need anything or to go anywhere let me know otherwise no talking.”

He slipped across to the other couch, a wave of calm rolling over him. He stretched out on the couch, pulling the pillow till it was comfortable.

The room filled with nothing but the quiet click of the keys on Steve's computer as he worked. He let his eyes drift shut as he relaxed, completely content in doing what Steve asked of him. He floated comfortably in the quiet.

When Steve shifted, set the computer on the coffee table with a soft thump he wondered absently how long he'd laid there. Steve stood, he could hear the other man stretch but he didn't open his eyes. Steve moved to the kitchen, filled a glass of water, then padded back over to the couches. He could hear Steve's steps so he wasn't startled when Steve's fingers brushed across his cheek. Steve shifted, moving to sit on the carpet next to him. He finally let his eyes open, pulling him back from floating.

“Thank you Buck.” Steve said. “I'm so proud of you.”

“All I did was sit.” He grumbled.

“Could you have sat this morning?” Steve asked then when he stayed quiet, “exactly. Now scoot over, let me sit with you.” He sat up and Steve sat next to him. “Drink.” Steve said, passing him the glass of water.

“Steve I'm fine.” He said. Steve rose an eyebrow but remained unmoving. He huffed before taking the glass and drinking. Once the glass was empty he shot Steve one final glare before sitting there glass down. 

Steve wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “So how did you figure out this was what was going on?” Steve asked.

He smiled. “It was Tony who figured it out honestly. I was down there pacing and he snapped at me to sit down and be still and it helped. Then I had a panic attack--”

“What? Why?” Steve asked.

“Because it's fucked up. No one should  _ want _ this kind of stuff.”

“Why?” Steve asked, his voice level.

“I. Because. It's just not normal.” He said. He knew it was a lame reason but he couldn't manage to articulate a better one. How could Steve think it was normal? He shouldn't even have to answer why.

“What about our relationship is or has ever been normal Buck?” Steve asked. 

“I shouldn't  _ like _ it.” He tried again. “And I definitely shouldn't get upset when it doesn't happen.”

“Why?” Steve repeated. He wanted to be annoyed that Steve was just parroting the same question over and over but Steve's tone was one of genuine curiosity.

“Because.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “After Hydra...After decades of just...I shouldn't like it.”

“So after years of following orders because you had to you shouldn't enjoy returning to something you enjoyed before because it's in the same ballpark?”

“Yes? Maybe. I don't know.” He was starting to feel agitated again. He stood, wanting to move again.

“No. Sit down.” Steve's voice left no room for argument and he sat, the wave of comfort at following the command doing little too stem the rolling in his stomach. “Now. I want you to sit and think. When you're ready, we can keep talking but I want you to figure out  _ why _ you think this is a bad thing. If you can't get there on your own let me know we can keep talking. I want to help you Buck but I need you to understand so I can understand.”

He didn't  _ want _ to think about it. He glared at Steve instead. He shouldn't have to think about this or talk about it. Steve remained silent. He looked content to wait all night if needed. And he would he knew Stevie. If he pushed it Steve would wait hours until he was ready.

Giving up on glaring he leaned back into the couch, keeping his arms folded as he went. He closed his eyes trying to figure out how exactly to word it so Steve could understand why it wasn't a good thing. He felt uncomfortable. He was taking too long. Why couldn't Steve just understand without him having to explain. It felt like hours were crawling past and still Steve waited patiently.

He felt stupid. If it was so bad why couldn't he just tell Steve, it shouldn't be taking this long. “Bucky.” He jumped when Steve's voice broke the silence. Was Steve mad? Had he reached some unknown time limit? “Relax Bucky.” Steve spoke gently. “Just take your time ok? It's not a rush.” He nodded and forced himself to take a breath.

Finally, after he was pretty confident another decade had passed, he said. “It feels like going backwards.”

“I can understand that.” Steve said calmly. “Can you elaborate on how it feels like going backwards?”

“Hydra gave orders. And I hated it. And I'm supposed to be getting away from what they did.”

Steve nodded and opened his mouth to reply before stopping. “Come here.” Steve said. It wasn't an order or a command but he rushed to follow it all the same. Laying on his stomach his face resting on Steve's chest made every breath feel a bit easier. “Comfortable?” Steve asked. He nodded. “Now, I can definitely understand how you would feel that way. To me it feels like taking back something Hydra tried to take away from you.”

He considered that for a moment.

“I have a question for you.” Steve said, a hand slipping under his chin to pull his face up. “And this time I want an immediate reply, no thinking. Ok?” 

He nodded.

“Do you _ enjoy _ when I give you orders?”

“Yes.” That wasn't a question.

“Do you enjoy following the orders I give?”

“Yes.”

Steve dropped his head to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “So it seems to me like if we both like it then fuck whatever happened before, but I want you to enjoy it too and I don't want you to feel like it's in the way of you getting better.” 

He closed his eyes and tucked his face back into Steve's chest. If Steve was ok with it, seemed to really like it, then it couldn't be bad. He was able to pull up a few fractured memories of when they were younger and they had both loved it then. And Tony had those videos, it wasn't just them. Maybe he was the weird one for worrying about it. “Are you sure it's ok?” He said, his voice barely audible even to his own ears. Maybe Steve wouldn't have heard. 

And then Steve was pulling him up so they were face to face. “If you're ok with it, I promise it's ok.” Steve said, bright blue eyes holding his.

He nodded. “Thanks Stevie.” He said, closing the distance to press their lips together. The kiss was brought up much shorter than he's like when Steve pulled back.

“What about you?” Steve asked. Before the question was even fully out of Steve's mouth he was shaking his head no. He didn't know what opinions Steve thought he might have but he  _ didn't. _ “Hey,” Steve said, the hand not currently trapped in his left rubbing against his stomach soothingly, “you saw those videos Tony showed you. Anything on there you hated or loved?” Steve asked.

He slowly stopped shaking his head, memories of the videos playing in front of his eyes. The very first one, “I like kneeling.” He said quietly.

Steve hummed behind him. “I enjoy that too.” Steve said easily.

The first video had been his favorite by far. There hadn't even been any sex in it. She'd knelt, taken the man's shoes off and rubbed his feet, sat next to the chair he was in while his fingers absently ran through her hair, occasionally pulling on the collar around her neck. He craved all of it in a way that had nothing to do with his dick but he had no idea how to begin to tell Steve. Maybe Tony could send him the video...

“Anything you didn't like?” Steve asked, mistaking his silence for uncertainty. 

An immediate answer jumped to his mind. If he voiced it would Steve be offended that he thought Steve might… “I. I don't want you to. I don't want to be hit.” He finished all in a rush. 

“That's understandable. It isn't something I think I'd like either.” He didn't  _ sound _ mad. 

He tired to think that else he'd immediately felt uncomfortable with. “I don't want you to make me stay somewhere alone.” He said. One video had shown a man arms bound left alone in a room. It had fast forwarded so he could only guess it had been for a long time.

“You mean like order you to sit on the couch then leave?” Steve asked uncertainly. He nodded. “What if it's not you staying somewhere but I tell you to do something while I'm gone?” 

“That's fine.” 

Steve nodded his chin bumping against his shoulder. “That's understandable.” Steve said.

He'd like the rope he'd seen in a few videos but he wasn't sure he wanted to voice that yet.

“Anything else?” Steve asked him quietly.

He cast around for anything else in his mind but only one thing came to mind, “Did you call me babe earlier?”

Steve laughed. His whole body shook with the force of Steve's laughter. When Steve quieted he pressed a kiss against the side of his neck. Goosebumps flared across his neck and down his left shoulder. Where the skin met his arm prickled softly. “Yes. I called you babe earlier. I was so relieved that it was this and not something life threatening or something. Just you finding more of yourself again. I won't do it again if you didn't like it though.”

“No.” He said, quietly. “I didn't mind.” 

Steve freed the arm he'd been holding so Steve could wrap both arms tightly around his middle, hugging him close. “Do you have any plans for this evening because I'm thinking of staying just like this and watching some TV or a movie or something.”

He reached over and grabbed the remote in response. He clicked through channels, nothing jumping out at him until he hit a black and white program. He frowned and hit the button to show the show name. “The Twilight Zone?” 

Steve shrugged behind him. “JARVIS?”

“The Twilight Zone is an American media franchise based on the anthology television series created by Rod Serling. The episodes are in various genres, including fantasy, science fiction, suspense, horror, and psychological thriller, often concluding with a macabre or unexpected twist, and usually with a moral.” JARVIS said.

“Sounds like your kind of thing.” Steve said.

He sat the remote down and pulled the blanket over them both. By the end of the first episode he'd decided it was definitely his kind of show. They watched another 8 episodes before Steve insisted on bed. He grudgingly agreed following Steve into bed. He stretched happy to finally be able to relax after so many weeks of anxiety. Steve dropped an arm over his waist.

He ran a hand through his hair. It had been a long shitty day. Things at the docks had been hell. Several shipments came overloaded meaning everyone had to work twice as fast to get everything pumped through. Then the final ship had been more than an hour late meaning he'd been late to work at the shop. His boss had gotten in his face and screamed about his attendance like he had somehow personally caused the ship to be late so he could show late to rebuild the fucking engine. The car's owner showed up halfway through and chewed him out for not having the car ready. 

He was past the point of being hungry. If he didn't know Steve was waiting on him to get home he'd have gone straight to the bar and found someone drunk enough to fight him just to try to let off some steam. As it was he planned to just go to bed once he was home. 

The warm smell of cooked meat filled his nose as he stepped into the house. Steve shouldn't have been paid yet. If he had he knew better than to blow it on meat. “Hey Buck.” Steve said a smile on his face. The bruise on his jaw had faded to sickly yellow-green and there weren't any new obvious marks. He'd at least made it through the day without getting into any fights. His nose had been correct, he could clearly see meat on the table even from across the room.

“Damn it Stevie! Ya can't go buying meat! I told you we have to save up. It's already startin'ta get chilly out there and we gotta have enough to keep the furnace goin over the winter.” He knew he wasn't really  _ mad _ at Steve, he really did, but they also couldn't afford another winter like the last one. Steve had been so sick.

The smile on Steve's face faltered. “I didn't buy it.” He said.

“For fucks sake! I told you we aren't a God damn charity! You can't keep takin shit or people are gonna talk. You wanna go back to the church?” 

Steve's arms folded, his frail shoulders squaring up. He felt a wave of of guilty relief. Stevie was going to yell. At least if they both shouted he could finally ease the knot of frustration the day had left in his chest. The fact that lately their screaming matches had ended in sex definitely didn't hurt either.

“Strip.”

The one word command hit him in the stomach as effectively as a fist. He glared, crossing his own arms and forcing himself to ignore the fact he  _ wanted _ to follow the command. It had been a few months since Stevie had first ordered him around in the bedroom. It had been a joke the first time but they had both enjoyed it. Now however. “Fuck you.” He snapped.

Steve didn't react, didn't move. His face was set. He watched Steve's chest move under his shirt with each breath. He was so relieved for every breath Steve could draw unencumbered by asthma or illness. Steve raised an eyebrow and he realized he'd been caught staring. Steve remained still making it increasingly obvious he was waiting. 

“Fuck you! You're the one who is gonna to get us both sent back to the church for taking handouts. If people think we ain't surviving on our own you know they will.”

Silence. Fucking silence. 

“You know what? Fuckin fine. Maybe I'll just go to the bar then since you won't fucking talk.” He made like he would leave but Steve didn't move. He remained solid and still, waiting. He honestly didn't want to leave. He was so tired and whatever Steve had made smelled amazing. He tried another tactic, “Stevie, I.”

“No talking.” Steve said, his voice still firm.

A fresh wave of frustration rolled over him. He crossed the room until he was right in Steve's face. Steve had to tilt his chin back to continue to hold eye contact. He pulled himself up to tower over the smaller man. “Don't you dare fuckin tell me what to do in my own house.” He snarled. Steve didn't react, didn't move away just remained still.

After a moment he stalked away. He knew Steve wouldn't hit him and getting in his face wasn't apparently going to work either. Deep in his chest the want to just let go was building. He was so tired. He didn't realize he'd started unbuttoning his shirt till he was on the second to last button. Giving up fighting he pulled it and his undershirt out from his pants. He shrugged off his shirt, pulled the suspenders off his shoulders and pulled off his under shirt. His pants and underwear came off together along with his socks. He folded his arms back across his chest, as he stood naked as the day goes on was born.

Steve's expression softened some. “Come here Buck.” He said quietly, though his tone left no question that he was expected to follow it.

He crossed the room to stand again in front of Steve. Steve's hand caught his neck and pulled him down for a soft kiss. Steve took his arm and moved over to the table, pulling him along. He wondered briefly if they were going to fuck on the table. He was fairly confident it wouldn't hold their combined weight but he was willing to try. The thought was cut short when Steve sat in his chair and indicated the spot on the floor next to it. “Kneel.” He glared down at Steve whose face set again. With an annoyed sigh he dropped to his knees as indicated. 

Unless he stretched up his current angle made it impossible to see the table but he heard the soft scrape of plates, the scratch of cutlery. Just about the time he was going to ask how long he was supposed to fucking sit there while Steve ate a piece of food appeared in front of his lips. His head snapped back a few inches. Steve had some of the meat on the end of a fork and was offering it to him. “Fuck no. I'm not--”

Steve pressed the fork past his lips as he tried to speak. He considered spitting it out to continue to express his frustration but it tasted even better than it smelled. When was the last time they'd had meat of any kind? Last winter, when Steve was sick he'd bought some for stew. Had it really been that long? 

The next bite Steve offered he opened his mouth without protest. They settled into silence. He was starting to get full but Steve kept passing him steak. How much had Steve gotten? Could he have stolen it? Surely this was too much to be a hand out, especially when everyone was clawing to get some. 

“What happened at work today?” Steve asked quietly. 

“Ships were overloaded. Took extra time to unload 'em then last one was late. Jared screamed at me for bein’ late then the asshole car owner got in my face too. Where did this come from?” He asked as another bite appeared in front of him.

“Mr. Jackson gave it to me. I helped him out today.”

That wording raised a flag. “Helped him how?”

Steve was quiet long enough he almost asked again. “His daughter was in the street. She almost got hit by a car, I pulled her back.”

The feeling of peace he'd started to feel dissolved in his chest. He was on his feet, “You fuckin what?!” He shouted. 

Steve ignored his yelling and waited. He folded his arms, confident it was needed to keep his heart from pounding straight through his bare chest.

He dropped back to his knees much harder than he'd intended before wrapping his arms around Steve's middle. “Jesus Christ Stevie,” he whispered into Steve's stomach, acutely aware that if Steve hadn't been successful he'd have probably never even known what happened. No police would find him, he wasn't next of kin. Steve would have just disappeared and he'd have never known. He could feel every bone of Steve's crooked back pushing against his skin. Sometimes, when Steve stretched certain ways, he was sure the bones would break through the thin barrier if Steve's skin.

Steve pushed him back gently until he was on his knees again. Another bite appeared and he took it without hesitation. When he was full he shook his head and Steve stopped feeding him. He knelt waiting for Steve to finish. The knowledge that Steve could have been gone more than enough to wipe away the frustration he'd felt about his own day. When Steve finished he stood and cleaned the plates, put away the leftovers then moved into the living room. 

“Come here Buck.” He briefly wondered if he was expected to crawl. Fuck that. He stood and moved to stand where Steve was standing. He dropped back to his knees without being asked. Steve took a step back to look at him. “Hands behind your back.” He moved his hands to link behind his back.

Steve ran a hand through his hair gently moving it back into place after the long day had disheveled it. 

Steve stepped back. “Bucky, I'll be right back. Keep your hands there and don't move. Your dick better be hard enough to pound nails when I get back.”

Heat flared in his chest that spread straight down to his dick. Steve, who had been starting to move away paused, then turned back to watch. Feeling Steve's eyes boring into him somehow made it infinitely easier. He shifted, widening his legs to free his dick from where it had been trapped against his leg. 

Steve slipped out of eyesight with a smile. He could hear Steve moving into the bedroom, retrieving the Vaseline. The knowledge of what was coming was more than enough for his cock to finish swelling. 

“Hmm.” Steve said, coming back into view. He'd lost his clothes in his absence. Steve's own cock filled as he watched. Steve bent and wrapped a hand around his dick. After receiving no help in getting hard the touch was almost overwhelming at first. Steve pumped his fist a few times before bringing his chin up to press a kiss into his lips. He arched into it trying desperately to deepen the kiss without moving his arms from their assigned spots. Steve smiled into his lips before opening his mouth. Steve's tongue licked into his mouth and he groaned at the familiar taste of Steve.

Steve pulled back and stood. Before Steve could get too far he shifted, catching Steve's still filling cock between his lips and sucking. Steve's hand fisted in his hair and pulled him off. He did his best to look at admonished through his lashes but Steve just smiled and guided his head back. He relaxed, letting Steve control his head. 

When Steve pulled him off again, a flush had spread over Steve's pale skin and he sounded breathless. Still when he spoke his tone was firm. “On your knees.” He didn't need told twice. He leaned forward, folding his arms on the hard floor and resting his head on them. He considered suggesting they move to the bed but Steve's finger sliding into him stopped that train of thought. 

He knew without a shadow of a doubt the size of Steve's fingers but they still always managed to feel huge as Steve stretched him open. Steve wasted no time sliding a second in next to the first. A string of begging, encouragement, and cursing began to pour from his lips as Steve fingers began to pump and scissor in him. 

Steve was taking longer than he needed to on purpose. Steve was also very intentional avoiding his prostate. He struggled to shift but Steve's hand on his back stilled him.

Steve's fingers curled as the same time his other hand moved between his legs to stroke his dick. The combined sensation had heat building between his legs. “Fuck. Stevie. Gonna.” Was all he managed to get out before his vision went white for a moment. Steve continued to stroke him as he came across the floor. As the aftershocks shook his body, Steve's fingers stilled in him but his hand continued to pump. He squirmed, trying to get away as the sensation began to get overwhelming. “Stevie. Stop.”

“Hush.” Steve said firmly. It took several minutes for the sensation to begin to feel good again. By the time Steve's fingers slid out of him he whined at the loss. “Roll over.” Steve said as he stood. He rolled into his back careful to avoid the mess on the floor. He lifted his hips for the pillow Steve returned with.

He felt the blunt head of Steve's cock press against his hole then slide in. Even with all the prep it still burned as his body adjusted to the invasion. Not that Steve gave him much time to adjust before drawing out and slamming back in. “Fuck.” He grunted, his shoulders lifting up off the floor as he curled forward.

Steve didn't slow, pulling out and slamming forward again shifting his angle slightly with each thrust until he grunted as Steve caught his prostate. He was so fucking close already. He forced the sensation back. He wanted Steve to finish first. It wouldn't take long based on the expression on Steve's face. 

He waited till Steve pulled out then clenched his ass as tight as he could before Steve thrust forward again. That was all it took. He would never stop enjoying the expression on Steve's face as he tipped over the edge. As Steve's rhythm fell apart his left hand slipped across his stomach to grab his own cock. Just a few pumps, he was so close.

His eyes snapped open. Dream. All a dream. His dick was hard enough to fucking hurt. “Fuck!” he grumbled, rubbing at his face.

“Buck? Whas’wrong?” The warmth against his back spoke, rolling closer.

_ Fuck _ . Steve. “It's nothing Stevie, go back to sleep.” he hoped his voice sounded calming. 

Steve's hand snaked back around his waist, missing the head of his cock by inches. “Bad dream?” Steve mumbled, still sounding half asleep.

_ Fuck it. _ “Kind of the opposite.” He said. “Why'd you have to remind me of you ordering me when we were kids?”

Steve blinked, the words taking a moment to penetrate his sleep fogged mind. Then Steve laughed. “Poor Buck.” Steve crooned. “Did you have a wet dream.”

“Fuck off.” He pushed at Steve's chest. “Unless you're planning to help I'm going to the bathroom.”

Steve froze at his words. His heart skipped a beat when he realized what he'd said. He could feel heat spreading through him the longer Steve's silence stretched. He should get up, go to the bathroom and come back like nothing happened. His dick was frustratingly unaffected by the sudden shift in mood. “Buck.” Steve started, his tone serious. “don't say that unless you're serious.”

He looked everywhere but Steve's face when he answered. “What if I am serious?” He was being flippant, he knew that but he also didn't know how Steve would react if he tried to be more direct.

Steve's hand caught his chin and pulled his face down. “Are you being serious?” Steve asked. “Don't be a dick. Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Steve's lips caught his. At the same time the covers were pulled away from his body. Steve's hand snaked into his boxers, pushing them down and out of the way. Steve's hand wrapped around him and he grunted into Steve's mouth his hips lifting off the bed to thrust into Steve's hand, the feeling both familiar and completely foriegn. 

Steve spread the leaking precum over him then began to pump. Fuck he was already so close, the dream still vivid in his mind. Steve kissed down his neck and began to suck lightly at his shoulder. The new found strength in Steve’s fingers only increased the intensity. He groaned as Steve caught the perfect angle. He heard Steve humm softly before picking up speed. The pressure was building far too quickly. He didn't want it to be over. Not yet. Steve’s thumb moved to roll over the sensitive head of his cock with each stroke. That was all it took. He came with a shout, his hips lifting up off the bed into the sensation. Steve slowly worked him down, his tugs slowly milking out every wave of pleasure.

Steve pulled back pressing their foreheads together. His breath came in puffs as he slowly calmed. “Still with me Buck?” Steve asked gently.

He opened his eyes and smiled. “Yeah doll, I'm here.” Steve snorted. 

“I'm gonna grab you something to clean up with ok?”

“Thanks Stevie.” He said as Steve stood he let his head drop back on the pillow. He jumped when something warm and wet ran across his abs. 

“Easy.” Steve said softly, “just cleaning you up.” He nodded. He must have dozed off.

“Do you want…” he trailed off not exactly sure what he was offering.

“One thing at a time babe.” Steve said kissing him again. “Right now we both need some more rest.” Steve stretched back out. 

His left arm slipped around Steve's waist pulling him close. “Thank you Stevie.” 

“Trust me. I suffered.” Steve cast a grin over his shoulder.

“Punk.” He said before letting his eyes drift closed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

September 3

When he woke Steve was already sitting up in bed. The smell of coffee filled the room. He'd apparently gotten up to bring them coffee. Lazily he stretched, scooting over to wrap his arms around Steve's middle, his cheek resting on Steve's leg. “Morning.” He mumbled into the sheet over Steve's leg.

“Morning Buck.” Steve's fingers ran through his hair. Memories of the day before and then of overnight started to file through his mind. “Do we need to talk about last night Buck?” Steve's voice cut through the stream of memories.

He frowned. “Why the fuck would we need to  _ talk _ about last night?” He asked feeling frustrated. “Can things not just happen between us? Or do you regre-.”

“Bucky stop.” Steve's voice was firm. “I don't regret it and of course things can just happen between us. I was just giving you the opportunity to talk about anything you needed to if you needed to. If you're good, we are good.” He huffed. Steve tugged on his hair, not enough to hurt but he lifted his head. “This is for you jerk. Talking was hard for you way before you spent decades not being allowed to.” He glared but couldn't grab into the frustration he'd felt before.

“Thank you Stevie.” He said quietly. Steve's hand moved to his cheek, fingernails working through his morning stubble.

“Of course Buck.” He nestled back into Steve's lap, his eyes dropping closed. Steve's fingers returned to brushing his hair. He caught himself starting to doze and sat up. Steve passed him the coffee without looking up from the tablet.

“Everything ok?” He asked, unable to catch a good view of the device. 

“Yeah, just the last of the work.” 

“Why exactly does Captain America need a job?”

Steve laughed. “Not really a job. I have a few charities and I do a lot of volunteer stuff.” He said.

“Charities?” He asked, taking a long drink of the coffee.

Steve smiled, “Yeah, several of them now. A few to help veterans. One for just basic stuff, food, clothing, that sort of thing. Another one that makes sure they have access to free PTSD assistance after their service. Another one that helps with any other mental stuff from when they served or even before. One helps with medical stuff because the V.A.s idea of helping is sometimes less than ideal. And then one to make sure they have housing once they get back.”

“Housing? Is that really an issue?” He asked in surprise.

Steve's face darkened a little. “All the stuff that was supposed to get better? Most of it didn't.” He said quietly. After a moment he continued, “Then I have few that help single mothers get access to clothes, food, education, housing all that kind of stuff. And then several to help kids with long term health issues get the treatment they need.” Steve paused. He could practically see the other man running down a checklist in his mind. “A couple that help women get out of bad situations or help if they have been victims of assault.” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I think that's all of them.” He said with a smile.

“Jesus Stevie.” He breathed.

“Yeah, keeps me busy.” Steve was smiling more now.

“How did you even get into all this?”

“Honestly? Tony helped me a lot.” He said.

“Tony?” He couldn't quite keep the tone of surprise out of his voice.

Steve laughed. “Yeah Tony. He’s got more charities than I do.”

He thought for a moment. He'd never thought of Tony having charities but now that Steve said it, it made sense.

“The PTSD charity was Tony's. He started it well before I was out. When I started showing interest in it, Tony let me take it over so I could figure out how to even start. We still technically co-own that one.”

“Wait, wait. You and Tony? Tony Stark Tony? Co-ownership?”

Steve laughed and bumped their shoulders together. “Hush. Tony and I will never see eye to eye” He snorted at the obvious jab but Steve kept taking as if there hadn't been an interruption, “but we can still work together. Plus, unless it's a massive decision we don't need the others approval. Tony has mostly moved to other charities anyway. Lots are for renewal clean energy. Then he's got even more in education. Stuff like building science and math centers in schools, making sure inventors have money to work on their inventions, building schools in areas that wouldn't otherwise have access to education, that kind of thing.”

Steve took a drink of coffee before continuing. “Anyway, after Loki I kind of ran out of things to do. I worked with SHIELD but they didn't always have things  _ I _ needed to help on. Tony, Nat, Clint, Bruce and I were all having lunch and I mentioned in passing I was thinking about helping with a few charities in the down time. Tony pulled me aside after and we got talking. A lot of the bigger charities say they use the money to help people but instead took donations and built themselves mansions and called it ‘the cost of doing business.’ Tony helped me start a few then I started showing people what the other charities were really doing. It went over poorly with the other charities, legal shit all over but in the end I won and a lot of those charities are closed down now. The ones I have pretty much run themselves but I have to monitor things to make sure the money is really getting filtered out to those who need it.”

He nodded. “Of course little Stevie, always gotta be helping someone. I'm just glad you don't seem to get beaten black and blue helping people now.”

Steve laughed. “Hey Buck. I know you said you didn't need to but can we talk about last night?” Steve's voice was suddenly quieter and somber. 

“What is there to fucking talk about Steve?” He shouldn't be annoyed he knew Steve was trying to be supportive probably but it didn't help want to talk.

“It's just. We and. I don't know what Hydra did to you Buck. I didn't watch the videos. I didn't ask anyone. I don't want to do anything that might bring back memories.”

Steve continued his voice getting more and more tight as he spoke. “Steve stop. Stop! For fucks sake Stevie enough!” He finally shouted effectively stopping the stream of panicked words falling from Steve's lips. “Look Stevie,” he pushed a hand through his hair, “nothing Hydra did was like that ok? It was all above the belt. The closest thing to what you're thinking of is when Pierce would have them hose me off after missions an the only reason I say it was like that is I was nude. I'm still trying to get back into the idea of sex but it's nothing to do with Hydra ok?” Relief seemed to spread to every inch of Steve's body. “And listen, if you want to talk about what Hydra did I told you I'm fine with doing it. It doesn't feel like me anymore anyway. More like remembering a really vivid movie. Okay?”

Steve nodded then set down the tablet and coffee and hesitantly curled against his chest. He wrapped an arm around Steve and half pulled half guided him between his legs. Steve folded against his chest. It was definitely a different fit than he remembered from when Steve was small but it still worked. He rubbed Steve's back gently as Steve's arms wrapped tight around his other arm. 

He recognized the change in Steve's breathing immediately, a childhood spent listening for even the slightest hitch in Steve's breath made him hyperaware. He hummed softly wrapping both arms right around Steve as the other man began to cry. It still made him feel off balance when Steve cried without immediately running to put a locked door between them. As much as he hated to see Steve cry, he definitely preferred this.

“Sorry.” Steve mumbled weakly against his chest before leaning back just a bit. 

“S'ok Stevie.” He said pressing a kiss against the other man's temple. 

Steve's hands caught his right arm and started to massage absently. “So, it was ok then?” He asked quietly. From his new angle he could clearly see the flush in the tips of Steve's ears. 

“Still can't talk about sex without blushing huh?” He said with a grin.

“You know what? Fuck you.” Steve said, though he could see the smile on Steve's lips.

He leaned close enough his lips ghosted over the shell of Steve's ear as he spoke. “Yes Stevie. I still love the way your hands feel when you jerk me off. I was so close already or I would have made you strip so I could watch you get hard, maybe take you in my mouth. Think your brain still freezes when I do that thing with my tongue?” He licked Steve's ear and the effect was instant. A shiver ran all the way to Steve's toes as goosebumps erupted over his shoulders and chest. 

Pleased with himself he gave Steve a firm enough shove that he could slip from behind him and stand. “I think I may just move my clothes in here today.” He said, glaring towards the door. “I'm tired of having to go across the hall to get dressed.”

He could practically hear Steve's brain trying to fire back up. He shouldn't have gotten Steve worked up when he was definitely not up for anything right now but it had been worth it for the reaction.

“Yeah Buck. That's fine.” Steve finally said. He nodded and moved to his old room. The dresser was big enough it was awkward for just one person to try to move. He considered having Steve help but the sound of the bathroom door closing made him confident he'd given Steve something else to work on. 

He was glad he still had that effect on Steve.  _ He doesn't see me for the monster I am _ . The second the thought flitted across his mind he pushed it away, turning his attention to the dresser. It took some work but he managed to move it into Steve's bedroom, right next to Steve's dresser before Steve reappeared from the bathroom, his hair damp and sticking up at strange angles. He was nude, save the towel wrapped around his waist.

“You sure were in there a long time.” He crooned. Wrapping an arm around Steve's waist and effectively stopping his movement to the dresser. 

“Fuck you.” Steve said, sliding a hand behind his head and bringing their lips together. When Steve’s tongue licked across his lips he opened his mouth.. As soon as his tongue slipped into Steve's mouth, Steve bit down, catching his tongue in Steve's teeth. He bit just hard enough to twinge before letting go. He smirked, fairly confident Steve's was scolding him for getting him worked up. He pulled back resting their foreheads together. He could feel Steve's heart beating fast against his hand. At least he wasn't the only one. 

“So do you have more charity work to do today?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. If I'm honest I've been putting some of it off so now I'm playing catch up.” 

He nodded. 

After breakfast as Steve set to work he headed down stairs to see Tony. Tony was talking to someone on the phone when he arrived. An unfamiliar woman's voice came from the phone. Tony looked up as he stepped off the elevator. “Ahh Shuri.” Tony cut across the woman, “Bucky just came in. One sec.” He set the phone down. He could hear the woman's frustrated voice as Tony crossed the lab. “You remember the woman I mentioned? Who if you ever decided to change your arm could do the surgery?”

“That her?” He asked, a feeling of unease spreading in his stomach.

“Yeah. You ok to say hi?”

_ No. _ He took a breath and nodded. She wasn't here and Steve and Tony both knew he didn't want the change. They wouldn't let a scientist force him into it. Tony's arm wrapped around his shoulders guiding him back to the phone in the bench which Tony picked up. 

He was shocked to see that the woman Tony had referred to was only a child. She couldn't be any older than Peter. “Finally! You know I have other things I could be working on besides looking at your ceiling. Which is filthy by the way. Don't you have something that could clean that?”

“Shuri, this is Bucky.” Tony tuned the phone enough she could see him.

“Sergeant Barnes, Tony has told me much about you.” Shuri smiled.

“Just Bucky.” He said. “Tony seems to think if I ever decide to change my arm you'd be the one able to handle the surgery side.”

A grin broke over Shuri's face. “Tony! I knew you were impressed.” She said teasingly. 

“Now why did you go tell her that? Her head gets any bigger it won't fit through her lab door.” Tony said.

“Look who's talking!” Bucky said turning an incredulous look to Tony.

Shuri crumpled in fits of giggles. When she finally calmed she spoke again, “I am confident I could help with your arm though I have not received any schematics so I do not know what I'd need to do.”

“Doesn't matter.” He said. “I have no plans to make changes.”

A sound behind Shuri made her turn. “Brother!” She called happily. She turned back to them. “Got to go.” And the video cut off.

Tony turned, “How you doing this morning?” He asked throwing an arm over his shoulder.

“Better.” He said honestly. “Thank you Tony. So that is the person you'd trust to do surgery on you? How old is she exactly?”

Tony paused to think for a moment then shrugged. “She's the smartest person I've met. Honestly given a few more years I'm confident she will fly past me. Given her access to near unlimited vibranium as well as tools and equipment what she's created has been impressive to say the very least.” 

“How did you even meet her?” He asked.

“Her tech came on my radar about 10 months ago. Took more than a week to finally find a way to contact her but we've been doing small projects together since.” Tony glanced back at the tablet. “She's had a hard few months here recently. Her father died, then almost immediately after they thought her brother was dead too. Someone overthrew their government and there was a civil war. I didn't find out until after the fact. I've been trying to check in with her at least once a week since but things seem to have stabilized.”

Tony dropped the arm from around his shoulders and walked over to his seat. One of the arms of his suit was laid on the table, the middle section opened where he'd been working. “Hey Tony? Could you send me that first video I watched?” 

A grin spread over Tony's face. “You and Cap needing some ideas for the bedroom?” He asked, a grin on his face.

“Fuck off. We aren't doing…” he tapered off, not entirely sure it was something he should even discuss with Tony.

Tony looked surprised. “You two aren't fucking?” He shrugged. “You did before though?” 

“How the fuck would you know that?” He asked, more than happy to deflect away from he and Steve's, apparently surprising, lack of sex.

“Howard told me he saw you two.”

“What? When the fuck did Howard see us?”

Tony grinned. “In the war room? He started to come in and saw so he kept people away until you both came back out.”

“Fucking Howard. Well he owed me I guess. I covered for him more than once when he slipped off with a dame.” He said. He pushed a hand through his hair. “Sent a fair few women his way too.”

Tony had turned in his chair as he spoke and was leaning over the arm. “He mentioned that, said your taste in women didn't ever really overlap.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Howard liked dames with melons more than I did.” 

There was a small crash as the arm Tony was working on dropped to the floor. “What the fuck Bucky!?” Tony grabbed a handful of bolts and chunked them at him. They bounced off his chest and clinked to the floor. “That's my fucking Dad you are talking about!” 

He laughed. He couldn't stop himself. The look of mixed disgust and indignation on Tony's face was priceless. “S'matter Tony? Don't want to know Howard's preferences?”

Tony bent and collected the arm. “Fuck. You.” He laughed. 

“Fine fine. I won't tell you any more about it.” He said, dropping into his own chair. 

Tony grabbed his phone and a few moments later the phone in his pocket buzzed. “There's your damn video.” Tony said, though his tone no longer sounded angry.

“So Steve told me about you getting him into the charity thing.”

Tony turned the arm over and removed several screws before answering. “Yeah. He made the mistake a lot of people make. Just Google the charity and give without actually fact checking the money goes anywhere. Honestly all the ones he has now are growing faster than anything I've ever done.”

He nodded. “Steve's got a knack for appealing to the good in people. I'm just happy I'm not having to tend bruises and broken ribs anymore.”

“What was that like? When you two were kids I mean.”

That was a broad question. “We met when I was 12, pulled him out from under a kid three times his size and double his weight. We were close after that. When his Ma died I moved in with him and we did our best to keep that place but money got to be too much. Got our own place together when I was, I think 16?. Lived there ‘till I got my papers at 25.”

Tony moved around the bench to a cabinet, grabbing a few things. “And based on the war room, you were a thing before the war too?”

So that's the question Tony had really been asking. “I guess it depends on your definition. I dated plenty of broads, set Steve up with every best friend, sister, and cousin in Brooklyn. Steve and I, it just kind of happened. Our place wasn't big enough for privacy and the walls were like paper. There was only ever enough hot water for one shower and the furnace barely worked in the winter. I liked dames too much to be a fairy so I never thought much of what Steve and I did. In the 30s no one had ever heard of being bisexual, at least no one I knew had.”

“So you're bi then?” Tony asked without turning.

It occurred to him entirely too late that Tony might not be comfortable with him being bisexual or that it might upset Tony. He hesitated before finally replying, “Yeah.” It was so quiet the soft hum of the air conditioning in the room almost drowned it out.

Tony spun in the chair with a smirk on his face. “Same. Welcome to the club” Tony said with a smirk. He felt a wave of relief. At least Tony wouldn't hate him then. “Can you grab those?” Tony gestured to the bolts around his feet that Tony had tossed earlier. 

He met Tony's eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Really Tony?”

“Hey I can get them if you really want my on my knees in front of you but figured you might prefer getting them yourself.”

He rolled his eyes. “Asshole.” He picked them up and threw them back at Tony, who annoyingly managed to catch most of them. Only one landed on the floor, requiring Tony to get it himself.

Tony tuned back to working. He reclined back in his chair. Shuri was right. The ceiling could use a cleaning. After awhile the silence became a bit too quiet. With a gesture, the music came back up. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked. Tony had indeed sent the video. He started at the link. How was he supposed to explain this to Steve? Steve had wanted suggestions last night but now he wasn't even sure how to bring up the topic again. He considered just sending the link to Steve too. Was that more or less weird than trying to talk about it? He closed his eyes, trying without success to figure out some way to reopen the topic with Steve. Each new way seemed more strange and uncomfortable than the last. When the fuck had he become the one who couldn't talk about sex?

A sharp jab in the leg made him jump. Immediately he noticed the music had gone silent. He set forward to see Tony looking at him. Had Tony said something? “You ok?” Tony asked, cutting his line of thought short. 

“Yeah. Sorry I'm good.” He said.

“If you thought any harder I'm pretty sure I would have heard it over the music. What's in your mind?” Tony pressed. He looked past Tony. The arm was done, how long had he been lost in thought?

“Just trying to figure something out.” He said honestly. Tony's eyes tracked to his phone where the message with the video link was still clearly visible on the screen.

“About?” Tony said, brown eyes meeting his. 

He sighed. “You're not letting this drop are you?” he asked. 

“Nope!” Tony said, a massive grin on his face.

“Fucker.” He complained. 

“Hey hey. Yesterday you came down here ready to go nuts, had a panic attack in that exact spot, figured out you needed something you didn't want to need and I was able to help with all of that. I feel like I've got a pretty good winning streak going.” Tony stood, “come on. Let's go talk.”

He followed Tony over to the couch and dropped next to him, leaning into the other man as he settled in. Tony fell quiet, waiting.

“I liked all the stuff on this.” He gestured dumbly toward the link Tony had sent, “but how do I…” he trailed off.

“Have you talked to Steve about it since yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say?” Tony promoted.

“He was fine about it. He told me I've been into it since I was 16.”

“16 was a busy year for you.” Tony said.

“Fuck off.” He pushed against Tony's side before continuing. “He said he enjoyed it too and that he was fine with it if I still wanted it now.”

Tony nodded. “So all that sounds positive.”

“It was, that's not the problem.” He said quietly. 

“Ok, so the problem is actually asking for it?”

He nodded then when Tony didn't continue. “What if he thinks it's gross or changes his mind or something?” 

“Bucky. In all honesty that,” Tony gestured to the phone, “is pretty tame. I'm pretty sure if Steve said he was good he wouldn't be put off by something like that. You're going to have to be open when you talk to him about what you want or need to get out of it. Things like this you can't just go in and hope it works.”

“How do I start?” He asked quietly.

“You liked everything on there?” Tony asked and he nodded. “So makes sense to show him that video. You could send it now, and tell him you like it and then you can talk about it later or you could go up there and show him the…”

Tony trailed off as he shook his head.

“Ok so send it now.” Tony said.

“Isn't that creepy though? Just sending him a random link to fucking porn?”

Tony snorted. “Not anymore it isn't. Go on, forward it to him.”

He glared at Tony.

“Do it or I'll have Jarvis do it for you.” Tony said, a grin spreading.

Before Tony could make good on the threat he sent the link to Steve. “There ok? Happy?” He felt embarrassed, he could feel the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Hey,” Tony's voice softened. “You wanted the things you saw on that video yesterday right?” He nodded. “Then this is how you get there. It will be worth the discomfort now.”

Before he could answer his phone buzzed. He didn't even want to look. Closing his eyes he opened the message. 

>Come upstairs. His stomach rolled.

“See you later Buck.” Tony said, giving his shoulder a squeeze before standing.

He crossed to the elevator. The ride to the apartment was far too short.

Steve sat on the couch, his laptop on the coffee table in front of him. “So we apparently have some things to talk about.” Steve held up his phone. It was paused at the end of the video. “But I still have some work to do.” Steve's eyes moved to his laptop. “So would you rather talk about this now and I can finish working after or would you rather wait and we can--”

“Wait.” He blurted before Steve was finished talking. Steve raised an eyebrow but otherwise was silent for a moment.

“Ok Buck. Come here.” Steve said, pulling his computer back into his lap. He crossed the room to stand next to the couch. Steve pointed next to his feet. With a shiver he remembered the non-verbal command. He dropped easily to kneel next to Steve's legs. Steve's face softened as he smiled. Steve's hand brushed gently through his hair. “Good.” Steve said his voice quiet. It smoothed over the anxiety that had formed a knot in his stomach. “I want you to get comfortable. Once you are comfortable I expect you to be still and quiet while I finish this. I don't have too long to go now. If you need something, or need to move I expect you to tell me immediately, okay?”

He nodded. 

“Good. Get comfortable.”

He turned slightly so his shoulder rested against Steve's knee. Out of habit his hands settled behind him, metal fingers circled the wrist of his right hand. He sat straight, chin bowed and fell still. It took Steve awhile before he began to work again. 

Soon the soft click of keys and their combined breathing were the only sounds filling the otherwise silent room. Steve shifted as he worked, pressing his leg against him. It took several moments before he felt himself beginning to relax, letting everything fall away. Steve's hand moved up and slid through the stands of his hair to massage gently at his scalp. He let out a sigh of contentment but otherwise remained silent. 

When Steve leaned forward and set the laptop down on the coffee table a small bubble of anxiety began to form in his chest. “So,” Steve's voice cut through the quiet, “I am assuming you sent me this because you either loved or hated parts of it. Which was it?”

“I liked all of it.”

Steve's hand returned to his scalp and he let both eyes fall shut once more. “I am going to play this a few times. I want you to watch it if you can and focus on answering what it is about all of this that you like ok?” He nodded.

He was surprised when, instead of playing on Steve's phone, the video started on the TV. He turned his head to watch the video play. Each time it ended Steve restarted it. In the fourth playthrough he at least had an idea what the answer was to Steve's question though he wasn't exactly sure how to word it. When the video finished the fifth time and Steve didn't restart it he took a deep breath before at least trying. “I like that it's like taking care of you and doing things so you don't have to and you can just relax.” 

Steve's fingers returned to his head. “That's really good Buck. I know that wasn't easy to explain. You always have taken such good care of me.” 

“Used to need me before but…” he froze mid-sentence his brain catching up with the words coming out of his mouth. 

“Hey.” Steve's fingers caught and pulled until he tipped his head back. “I still need you Buck.” Steve pressed a kiss onto his forehead before softening his hold and letting his head drop forward again. 

“Not like before.” He said softly.

“Not like before.” Steve agreed quietly. “For the video, is it the actual actions you like or the meaning behind it?” 

“Both.” That was at least an easy question.

“Obviously, at least on this one, none of it is inherently sexual. Is this something you like sexually or just as a lifestyle thing?” Steve asked.

He tried to pin it down to one or the other but couldn't find a good way. “Both? Maybe?” He said finally.

“Yeah, that's fair. Hard to know for sure until you try it huh?” 

He nodded, relieved that I don't know seemed to be an acceptable answer.

“Want to go through the rest?” Steve asked and his head snapped up to look at the TV. Tony had in fact sent the whole list of movies not just the one he mentioned. He didn't want to really talk about it anymore but kneeling pressed against Steve's leg did make it dramatically easier than before. He nodded quietly.

Steve played through the next few videos, pausing after each one to give him time to talk. He wished it got easier each time but it really didn't. Steve, he realized, must be checking each video ahead of time before playing it when he paused and said, “the next video is one with hitting, do you remember anything you did like from it or would you rather skip.”

“Skip.” He said, happy to not have to watch it again. 

Steve had lots of questions when he mentioned liking the rope. Most of the questions ended with him saying he didn't know. He did at least feel more comfortable each time he gave that answer.

“That's where I stopped.” He told Steve after the tenth video played. 

“Looks like five more, but one isn't one you'd like. Looks like a whip. Want to watch the other four?”

“Yeah might as well.” He said.

The next one was long, more than 30 minutes though the time on the video declared that it happened over three hours. According to the title that showed at the end it was called edging. “Maybe?” He offered when Steve paused for his input.

“Fair, let's get to sex before we worry about that.”

Tony's surprise popped into his head. “Is it weird we aren't having sex?” He asked.

Steve thought for a moment before saying, “I don't think so. We have both been through a lot. Decades have passed. I think we both need time to figure things out again.” He nodded, letting his weight droop against Steve's leg. “Why?” Steve asked.

“Tony acted like it was weird.” He said.

“Tony needs to…” Steve tapered off then started again, “Tony views sex in his own way just like you or I see it our ways. For him it probably would be weird.” That made sense. He nodded.

“Hey Steve? I don't think I want to finish them after all.” He said quietly.

Steve nodded. “That’s ok Buck. I'm really proud of you. Come up here.” 

He crawled into the couch and tucked into Steve's side. Steve wrapped an arm around him. He felt drained. He let his eyes drift closed. Steve's fingertips ran over his back and shoulders and he felt himself starting to doze. Shifting he settled back in and let himself fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

September 19

His eyes snapped open, the claws of nightmare threatening to drag him back under. His heart pounded as his breath came in gasps. It took several minutes for him to place where he was. He stared at the ceiling till he could breathe normally. Steve slept like the dead, nothing ever seemed to wake him. Honestly it was for the best, as much as he woke up. He tried to go back to sleep but every time his were drifted shut his heart began to thunder. 

Finally he gave up and slipped free from Steve's arm. Pup made a low groaning sigh as his leg slid from under her head. He watched her stand, still completely under the sheets and move to use Steve as a pillow instead. Slipping to the bathroom he shut the door and turned on the tap to wash his face.

“Time?” 

“3:13 a.m.” Jarvis replied.

“Tony up?” He asked, his voice muffled in the towel.

“Is Mr Stark ever asleep?” Jarvis said, sounding annoyed.

He slipped back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before heading to the elevator. Distantly he wondered if he should be worried this was becoming such a consistent pattern. Over the last few weeks every time he woke up and couldn't sleep he'd head down and hang out with Tony. Tony seemed to like the company and Steve was fine with it. He could only guess Pepper was ok with it too since Tony was down there almost every night he'd asked.

Stepping off the elevator he spotted Tony laying on the couch. Tony lay on his back, a tablet in hand. A blanket covered him, the reactor still visible under it. “Hey Buck.” Tony said without turning his head to look.

“Hey Tony.” He said crossing the room. Tony lifted his legs for him to sit then dropped them with a thud across his lap.

“Bit early for you.” Tony said, still not looking up from the tablet.

“Steve and I went to bed early.” Tony finally looked at him. “Steve's helping with some charity event thing tomorrow.” Tony hummed. For something Steve had said ‘ran itself’ he'd been working on it a lot lately. “What are you looking at?” He asked.

“Candidates for my mentorship program. Want to see?” Tony asked, finally meeting his eyes from over the tablet. He looked exhausted.

“Sure.” He said. 

Tony pulled the blanket up and around him before sitting and tucking into his side. The faint smell of alcohol came with him. He dropped his left arm around Tony's shoulders. Tony pulled the blanket around them both before holding the tablet out and pressing play.

Each video showed a kid, roughly Peter's age. Each kid introduced their family, and where they lived. It was interesting to see how vastly different the spaces were. Some lived on massive houses with parents that looked rich and important. Others seemed to be on the completely opposite side, tiny houses with parents who were either not there at all or looked like they had never worked before. Then each video the child would dive into an explanation of an idea, prototypes and working models, designs and theories. Most of it was way over his head but Tony would translate for him as they watched.

When the first video began to play again Tony set the tablet next to him on the couch. Tony pulled his arm back under the blanket he scooted closer, tucking against his ribs. “I'm supposed to pick one to come up here and spend a few days at the tower. I mentor them, help fund their designs. It's a yearly thing. Pepper doesn't know it but I'm not picking one this year. I'm not going to destroy their dreams. They are all coming here this year. I sent them their emails, all of them.” Tony shifted some before continuing. “We need kids like them in this world. We need them to hold on to that passion. The world is dying faster than anyone is standing up to fix it. If I can get 20 kids who want to help why would I send 19 of them away to pick one.”

“So you are bringing 20 kids here?” He asked.

“Pepper's going to murder me.” Tony said with a laugh. “Yeah, 20 kids, all expenses paid, a week here with me. Access to send me ideas in the future that I'll help fund.”

“Yup. Pepper will let you bring them here but afterwards she will have to get good at writing emails for you cause she is going to murder you slowly.” He said easily.

Tony snorted. “How are things with you and Steve? Fucked yet?”

He frowned. Tony never called Steve by his name. How long had it been since Tony slept? “Not unless you count one hand job as sex.” He said, eyes searching the lab. Things were out of place, messier than normal. Tony had been working rather than sleeping. The kitchen had dishes piled in the sink. The trash overflowed with bottles. Tony hadn't been leaving to eat upstairs and had been drinking a lot. Had he and Pepper had a fight?

“Still?” Tony asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Have you  _ tried _ anything?” 

Tony had a point there. He hadn't tried anything either. Maybe Steve was waiting on him. “Tony when did you last sleep?” He asked.

“I'm fine.” Tony said.

“J?” He asked.

“Mr. Stark has been awake 78--”

“Mute!” Jarvis fell silent under Tony's command. “I'm fine.” Tony said again.

“Tony lay down.” He said firmly. Reaching past Tony he picked up the tablet and fished his phone out of his pocket. Tony remained still, unmoving. “Tony lay down.” He repeated. Tony's eyes caught his. A look of panic was clear on Tony's face. “I'm not gonna make you sleep. I just want you to lay down ok?”

Tony's eyes held his for several moments before he laid down, pulling the blanket over his legs. He stretched over and grabbed the pillow Tony had kicked to the floor earlier as he'd moved around and tucked it against his legs. Tony rested his head on his lap. Tony's whole body was rigid, like he might need to jump up at any moment. What kind of nightmares had Tony been having? He ran a hand over Tony's hair, playing absently with the strands. “Not going to sleep.” Tony said his voice set.

“Not asking for you to. Just relax for a bit so you're ready to tell Pepper so she can start planning your funeral, I mean the kids accommodations.”

Tony snorted. “Do you think she will be mad?” Tony asked, his voice suddenly a lot more uncertain.

“She will probably be stressed. Finding space for 19 extra kids is a lot. But no I don't think she will be mad, not really.”

“She doesn't know how hard it is.”Tony's voice was quiet enough that if the air circulation would kick on he probably wouldn't be able to hear Tony as he continued. “Telling all the other 19, you worked so hard to make it to the end but your idea isn't good enough. That age kids should be hearing how amazing their work is. They need support, not to be compared to each other. I can't be the one to tell them they aren't good enough. I heard it enough, no other kid should ever have to. I'm not going to be like Ho…” Tony stopped mid sentence and fell silent.

Howard. He knew how Tony had planned to finish that sentence. “Things were hard, growing up with Howard.” It wasn't really a question but Tony nodded. It was hard to imagine Howard being a bad parent the way he'd been when he and Steve had known him. Then again that had been with dames, not kids.

“Don't think he wanted kids. Hated having me around. Jarvis raised me. I still just wanted to be like him. Maybe then to wouldn't hate me. Fuck!” Tony jerked up. In the next moment he was standing. He crossed to the nearest workbench, grabbed whatever was on it and flung it hard. It crashed loudly to the floor. 

“Shit!” He jumped up and followed Tony. Catching up as Tony picked something else up off the bench he pulled it from Tony's hands then wrapped his arms around Tony and pulled him close. Tony fought for a moment before collapsing against him. Tony was silent save soft sniffs every few moments. He rubbed Tony's back silently. When Tony pulled back he didn't try to hold him. Tony stood silently and moved back towards the couch. Tony's whole body seemed to have crumpled in on itself. His shoulders were hunched, arms wrapped around his chest. He was shuffling more than really walking. 

He stood and returned to the couch as well. Tony waited for him to sit back on the end of the couch. Tony's red rimmed eyes met his for a fraction of a second before Tony laid down again, covering himself with the blanket. He ran his fingers through Tony's hair after the man settled in. “I'm sorry Tony.” He said quietly.

“Don't.” Tony's voice was tight. 

It was less than ten minutes before Tony's breathing began to even out. He shot a text to Steve, letting him know he probably wouldn't be back up in time for breakfast before settling in.

It was well after noon before Tony began to stir. The soft hiss of the coffee maker told him Jarvis noticed Tony starting to wake too. When Tony's eyes flickered he spoke to make sure Tony was aware he wasn't alone. “Morning Tony.” He said. He kept his voice as quiet as possible but Tony still jumped.

“Fuck!” Tony blinked, brown eyes struggling to come into focus. “Buck? Wha'you doin here?” Tony mumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

“Sitting on the couch. You?”

Tony mumbled but didn't answer. 

“Feeling any better?” He asked. 

Tony sat up enough to drop against his side. He wrapped an arm around Tony's shoulders. Tony rested his head against his shoulder. Tony's body sagged against him, as Tony started to drift back to sleep.

“Hey.” He said, gently shaking Tony's shoulders. Tony jumped a bit as he woke again. 

“Hmm?” Tony mumbled, as he woke again. “Sorry.” Tony said softly.

“It's ok Tony, you're still waking up. No big deal.”

“No. I mean last night. I lost it.”

“Still not a big deal.”

Tony was quiet after that. The elevator doors opened. He looked up to see Pepper crossing the room. “Hey Pep.” Tony said without looking up.

“Did he sleep?” Pepper addressed him. 

“A few hours.”

Pepper sat next to Tony on the couch. He moved his arm from around Tony's shoulders to the back of the couch so his hand was no longer pressed between Tony and Pepper. Tony shifted letting his weight shift to Pepper. She pressed a kiss into his forehead, her fingers moving to gently massage his scalp. “Tony.” She said, her voice quiet, “why have I received eleven RSVP invites so far?”

He turned to look at Pepper, already preparing to warn her what a rough night Tony had or tell her Tony needed more sleep first. Her green eyes met his over Tony's head. She was smiling. “Wasn't gonna tell 'em no. Can't.” Tony mumbled into Pepper's collar bone. 

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, Ms. Potts?” Jarvis replied.

“Go ahead and begin construction.”

“Very good, Ms. Potts.”

That got Tony's head up. “Construction?” Tony asked eyes searching hers in confusion.

“I drew up plans for Floor 19 to be converted into 20 bedrooms for the internship.” Pepper said, a smile on her face. Tony pulled her into a hug before kissing her. 

“God, I love you.” Tony said a smile on his face.

“I love you too Tony. Come on. Upstairs, you need to shower, eat something and go back to bed.”

Tony nodded but turned to him and pulled him into a hug. “Thanks Buck.”

He smiled and hugged Tony back. “Yeah of course.”

“Bucky, the kids get here in 2 days and will be here a week so if you come down to the lab you might get mobbed.” Pepper said, standing and gently pulling Tony up with her.

“Thanks for the heads up.” He headed for the elevator.

He stepped into the apartment just as Steve stepped out of the hall and into the living room. Steve wore dress pants, a button down shirt, and was currently looping a tie under the popped collar of his shirt. A suit jacket hung off the kitchen chair.

“Hey.” He said, taking in Steve's appearance. “Thought you'd left hours ago.”

Steve, who had paused at his arrival, resumed working on the tie. “Left, set up, came back. I have to leave in,” he paused to check an expensive looking watch on his wrist, “20 minutes to go attend the lunch.” He finished the tie and fixed his collar before picking up the jacket and pulling it on. The suit was obviously tailored to him. He looked amazing. Steve dropped to the chair at the table, picking up his tablet. “Tony ok?” Steve asked, pulling him back to the conversation.

“Yeah. Going to be 20 kids down there for the next week so probably going to avoid that whole area.” Steve laughed.

He crossed the room, catching Steve's chin between his thumb and forefinger kissed him. Steve's whole body arched as he pressed into the kiss. He cut it short, dropping soft kisses across Steve's check and down his jaw. He shifted forward, palming Steve's already hardening cock through his pants. Steve moaned, grinding against his hand. 

Memories of Steve across the years mixed in his mind as he pushed Steve's collar open enough to suck a mark. Steve's breath came in hot puffs against his ear.

He knelt between Steve's legs and meeting Steve's eyes, placed a soft open mouth kiss against the outline of Steve's cock, now straining against his pants. 

Carefully he opened Steve's pants and freed his cock from his underwear. Leaning forward his eyes still holding Steve's he licked the bead of precum forming at the tip of his cock. “Fuck! Bucky!” Steve hissed through gritted teeth. He could feel Steve's leg trembling against his chest as Steve struggled not to thrust up into the sensation.

His right hand circled the base of Steve's dick, angling it towards his mouth as his left hand slid under the hem of Steve's shirt to spread across Steve's stomach.

He opened his mouth enough to allow just the tip past his lips. With a groan Steve's head fell back. Pleased he moved forward, pulling the whole head into his mouth. Steve had never been small in this regard but he could definitely tell the serum had affected here too. Still the weight against his tongue felt familiar. 

Taking a deep breath through his nose drawing in the familiar scent of Steve before he surged forward, until the head bumped that back of his throat. Steve didn't managed to stop his hips thrusting up, a moan pulled from Steve's lips at the friction the action created. 

He held still like that, Steve cutting off his air until he began to feel light headed. He drew back until just the tip rested against his lips. “Jesus Buck.” Steve whispered, his head rolling forward enough to make eye contact again. Steve's eyes were blown. After so long he knew better than to tease too long. Steve probably wouldn't last.

Shifting his angle slightly he set a rhythm. Steve immediately began to match the pace. He hadn't been wrong. Steve's breathing was already starting to catch. His right hand slipped around to gently cup Steve's balls, memory guiding his touch.

“Buck. Fuck. I'm gonna, Bucky.” Steve's hand fisted in his hair but he didn't stop. Seconds later Steve came hard, his body cutting forward with the intensity of it. Ropes of cum hit the back of his throat and he swallowed to stop himself choking. Steve's whole body trembled as the final sheet shocks rolled over him. “Jesus Buck.” Steve whispered, a shaky hand moving up to push his hair off his face.

He smirked around Steve's dick before letting his eyes drift closed, focusing on the weight and taste of Steve. His tongue stretched over every inch it could reach, cleaning away any cum that had leaked from his lips. 

Steve's hand tightened in his hair, pulling him away from his softening cock. Steve's hand moved to his cheek, rubbing gently. He closed his eyes, nuzzling into Steve's wrist. He rested his cheek against Steve's thigh. Steve's fingers pushed through his hair and across his face. It took several minutes for Steve to speak again. “God I fucking missed that mouth of yours.” He grinned.

“Tony made me realize you might be waiting on me to make the next move.” He said easily. 

“I-Shit! I need to go!” Steve said, starting to stand. His left arm shot up, pinning Steve back in the chair. Leaning forward he wrapped his lips around Steve's softened dick. His tongue working to hit every spot he knew drove Steve nuts as he sucked. “Bucky. Bucky! Stop! I need to” Steve hips stuttered as Steve tried to prevent thrusting into his mouth. Steve was already almost completely hard again. His Stevie had always been so easy to get worked up.

He pulled off of Steve's cock with a pop. In quick easy movements he tucked Steve back into his pants. With a practiced ease he rolled from kneeling to standing. His left arm pulled Steve to his feet. He collected the jacket from the chair and helped Steve into it. He could practically hear Steve's brain trying to catch up with the change. Carefully he buttoned the jacket and fixed the cufflinks on each sleeve. 

“Bucky?” Steve finally managed as he gently smoothed out any wrinkles in Steve's appearance.

He linked a hand behind Steve's neck bringing them nose to nose. “Think of me while you're gone.” He said in a low croon. Their faces were close enough their lips brushed with each word. Then he stepped back. He couldn't help the grin at Steve's completely dazed expression. “You need to leave.” He reminded Steve, who jumped as the thought returned. “Come on Pup.” He patted his leg, heading to the elevator. “Your move Stevie.” He called over his shoulder as the elevator doors closed.

He stepped out into the roof. Over the whistle of the wind he was immediately aware of someone taking a ragged breath. His arm whirred softly as he tensed. He had no weapon. His body braced he moved silently towards the noise. Pup shot towards one of the air units. A startled yelp let him know she's found whoever was hiding.

A second later Peter popped up from behind the unit, looking around with wide eyes. “Oh, hey Bucky. Sorry I was just patrolling and needed to sit for a minute and Mr Stark said it was ok for me to be up here but I think I need to get back to patrolling now so I will just--”

Peter made to walk towards the edge of the roof. “Stop.” He said, voice firm. Peter stilled, his hands coming up to rub his face. His eyes were red rimmed. “Peter what's wrong?” He asked, moving across the roof.

“What? Oh, no. Nothing. I was just patrolling and something got in my eye. That's why I stopped I just needed to get it...out.” He came to stop in front of Peter. 

“So you got something in your eye through your mask?” He did nothing to hide the disbelief in his tone.

“I...uhh. Yeah.” Peter said quietly.

“Hey. What's wrong?” 

Peter turned to look over the city. “It's. I.” Tears spilled down the younger man's face. Peter curled in on himself, his back sliding down the air unit to sit on the roof. Pup whined pressing against his chest. Peter's arms slipped around her letting her squirm into his lap so he could cry into her fur. 

He sat next to Peter, hesitantly wrapping an arm around Peter's shoulders. Peter leaned against him, his face still buried in Pup's fur. 

They sat like that for a long time before Peter tried to speak. “I...need...to go... home.” Peter managed between hiccuping sobs. He shifted to give Peter space to stand but Peter just leaned farther to maintain contact. It took a solid thirty minutes before Peter seemed to cry himself out. He leaned against him, occasionally hiccuping but otherwise quiet. 

“Want to head inside and get something to drink?” He asked. Peter nodded. As he leaned back Pup writhed to lick at Peter's face before he stood. Peter laughed weakly as he stood. He wasn't sure if Steve would be home so he asked Jarvis to take them to a common room instead. 

Peter grabbed a soda from the fridge before dropping into a couch. Pup practically launched from across the room to land next to Peter. He grabbed a beer from behind the bar and sat in a chair next to Peter. 

“Want to talk about it?” He asked softly. It took Peter several minutes to nod.

“My Uncle Ben died a year ago today.” Peter said, his voice barely audible even in the quiet. “He was like a father to me and it's my faul… If I had...I could have.. “ Peter's hands grabbed at his hair as he curled forward. Peter's brown eyes, puffy and red from crying, met his. “Bucky it was my fault.” 

He stood, crossing the room to sit next to Peter. He rubbed Peter's back quietly. “I'm sorry that it happened Peter. I know how hard it must be.”

Peter spoke into his hands. “I need to go home, need to see Aunt May. She's all alone but I just  _ can't.” _ The last word Peter forced out around a renewed sob. Peter's lean form shook as he cried. Pup began to whine again, trying to climb over his lap to get to Peter.

It took less time for Peter to calm himself this time.”If your Aunt is alone I'm sure she misses you and wants you back home.” He said quietly. Peter nodded into his hands. “Do you have any clothes to change into?” He asked softly.

“My backpack is on the roof.”

He stood. “Stay here with Pup, I'll be right back.”

He made the short elevator ride up to the roof and retrieved the bag. By the time he made it back to the floor Pup was squirming on her back on the floor while Peter rubbed her stomach. The tiniest whispers of a smile played at the edges of Peter's lips. “Thanks Bucky.” Peter said quietly as he tossed the bag. Peter caught it easily. 

Peter stripped off the suit, changing into jeans and a t-shirt. “Come on. I'll give you a ride home.” He said.

Peter's head snapped up. “Really?” He said, sounding pleased for the first time since his arrival.

“Yeah of course. I've been on public transit in this city.” He said waving Peter to the elevator. It wasn't until they were halfway down the building before he realized he didn't really know the protocol for if he was even allowed to leave alone but neither Jarvis nor any other people tried to stop them as he crossed to his Jeep. The keys were still tucked in the visor where he'd left them. He drove to the lift, mounting uncertainty in the pit of his stomach but the lift worked without issue.

Peter rolled his window down, the wind tosling his hair as he drove. Peter was mostly quiet, pointing directions as they went. Peter reached over and turned on the radio. He didn't recognize the music but it had a good beat.

Based on the directions Peter gave, and what he'd been told about where Peter lived previously it was obvious Tony had worn down Peter's Aunt. The area he was directing then into was far nicer than where he'd been told Peter lived before.

It took less than thirty minutes before Peter pointed out an apartment building. A woman stood leaning against the front entrance, her eyes filled with worry. Was that Peter's Aunt? That was answered as, no sooner had Peter opened the Jeep door, the woman came running across the sidewalk to fold him into her arms.

“You can't just leave like that Peter, not today.” She said. He started to reach across the Jeep to pull the door closed but Peter turned.

“Bucky, come meet Aunt May.” If he could have groaned without them hearing he would have. The last thing he felt like doing was meeting Peter's Aunt. Still he turned the key and climbed out. 

Immediately he was aware how tall the buildings around then were. There were dozens upon dozens of places a sniper could hide. His whole body tense he crossed the front of the vehicle. Aunt May stepped back from Peter, sniffed and wiped both her eyes before facing him. “Sergeant Barnes?” She said tentatively.

“Please just call me Bucky.” She nodded, sniffing again.

“Thank you for bringing Peter home. I'm a hugger is that okay?” He smirked, opening his arms. May moved easily into the hug. In spite of being more than a head shorter than him, her hug felt as if it was covering him in a familiar warmth. Memories of his mother bloomed across his mind and he was simultaneously glad and saddened when she stepped back.

“I promise I was being safe Aunt May.” Peter said quietly. May's hazel eyes snapped to his as if wanting verification.

“He was at Stark Tower working with Tony. Tony had a meeting so I offered to bring him home.” May's face softened. 

“Thank you. Today is just hard.” He could see tears welling up in her eyes. “Would you like to come in? I just finished cooking.”

“That's ok. I have to get going. Thanks for the offer.”

May's hand patted his left shoulder. If she was surprised or disgusted by the soft metal clink her ring made against his arm she hid it well.

To his surprise Peter pulled him into a hug too before he could turn to leave. Back in the Jeep he rolled the windows up, happy to have the bullet proofing between him and the tall buildings with unseen roofs. 

He got back to the apartment just a few minutes after Steve. “Hey Buck, everything ok? Jarvis said you left?” Steve still had his dress pants off but his jacket and tie had been tossed to the kitchen table.

“Yeah, Peter was here. I guess today was the anniversary of his Uncle's death so he was pretty upset. I helped him calm down, got him home.”

Steve nodded then stood still, obviously thinking. Steve tongue slipped out to wet his lips. “Still my move Buck?” He asked. Memories of earlier filled his mind. He couldn't help but smirk.

“Still your move Stevie.” He said.

“Strip then come here.” The change in Steve's tone was immediate. He pulled off his clothes and moved to where Steve indicated. At Steve's point he dropped easily to his knees. Steve circled him, absently folding his sleeves up as he moved. He recognized this. Steve had always loved playing games where Steve remained clothed while he was nude. His cock remembered too, filling fast enough his head felt fuzzy.

Steve's fingers wove into his hair, fisting just enough to pull but not enough to hurt. Steve pulled and he relaxed easily allowing Steve to manipulate his head. Steve tilted his head back to look into his eyes. “That was a dick move. Took me almost the whole fucking drive to calm down.”

He couldn't have stopped the grin if he tried. “Aww I'm sorry doll. Were you thinking of me?” His eyes tracked Steve who continued to circle him. 

Steve released his hair. “I was going to suck you off, return the favor but now I don't think I will. I'm just going to leave you there on your knees, enjoy the view. Maybe later if you can ask nicely I'll change my mind.” 

Distantly he was aware he should probably be embarrassed at the strangled groan that escaped his lips at Steve's words. As wonderful as few could remember Steve's mouth feeling over his cock the idea of kneeling under Steve's gaze sounded just as good. 

Steve walked to the bedroom. It made him feel anxious, not seeing Steve, but the other man made enough noise from the other room that he didn't feel the need to move.

When Steve returned he was shirtless and wearing pajama pants that tented in the front. The outline of the head of Steve's cock showed clearly through the material. In Steve's left hand was his sketchbook. Steve crouched in front of him and carefully fixed the hair he'd tugged out of place. He stood walking a circle around him. 

Steve poked the small of his back with the pencil forcing him to sit straighter. Steve repositioned his arms then moving in front of him, gently kicked his knees farther apart. The movement made his dick bounce into his stomach and he had to focus not to rock his hips and repeat the movement. 

Stepping back Steve looked at him for several moments before dropping to the couch. Steve settled in curling into a position he knew well. Steve's eyes darted between him and the paper. Even though the picture Steve was working on wasn't visible from his current angle he had watched Steve draw enough growing up to know exactly what Steve was doing. His eyes moved fast as he struggled to get all the outlines down as fast as his eyes noticed them. Gradually Steve's eyes moved between him and the paper less frequently and less frantically. Details now, slow and careful. 

He let his eyes drift shut letting his mind float. The soft scratch of the pencil and the quiet sounds if their breathing were the only sounds in the apartment. He felt warm and comfortable, like sitting outside on a sunny day. The warmth spread from his chest through his mind, pushing out thoughts until his mind was blank and he could just be.

A sharp change in Steve's breathing brought him crashing back down. Age old panic sent electricity through him as he prepared to jump up and help Steve through the asthma attack. “Be still.” Steve's voice was tight as he opened his eyes. The sketchbook sat next to Steve's leg on the couch. Steve had pushed the elastic of his sweatpants down and was lazily jacking his cock.

He let out a low whine in the back of his throat forcing himself to be still as Steve instructed. Steve's eyes held his for a moment before Steve's hips thrust forward and Steve let out a soft gasp his head falling back against the couch. 

He knew the expressions that flitted across Steve's face as easily as the knew how Steve drew. He was getting close. “Stevie.” He whined.

“No, you were an ass.” Steve said, bringing his head back up off the couch.

“I was an ass so you punish yourself?” He asked. 

Steve's hand slowed as he thought. He could see the moment he'd won. Steve took several moments before he beckoned him over. He moved to kneel between Steve's legs. Steve's hand knotted in his hair. He relaxed, letting Steve guide him. 

He hummed around Steve's cock. The warm fuzziness was back filling his mind as Steve humped into his mouth. “Close babe, you ready?” Steve asked. He did his best to nod around the weight of Steve on his tongue and Steve's fist at the back of his head. Steve moan as his hips stuttered. Steve's hand remained twisted in his hair as he struggled to pull air between the spurts of come and Steve’s cock filling his mouth. The fuzziness in his mind gave way to a wave of panic. He scrabbled against Steve's leg and Steve immediately released him.

He pulled in air, the panic fading away leaving him feeling cold. He shivered as a wave of cold rolled over him. He felt weak and heavy all over. “Buck?” Steve's concerned voice cut through his mind. “Hey, talk to me.” Steve eased off the couch to his knees next to him. Somehow seeing Steve at his level just increased the sickness he felt in his stomach. 

The warmth he had felt seemed so far away as he sat on the plush carpet. He wanted it back. Why had he panicked? Everything had been fine. He'd been fine. What was wrong with him?

Steve's hand touched his arm. He jumped like he'd been shocked. His eyes moved up to catch Steve's. The look in Steve's eyes, the fear and worry, was too much. He curled into himself, tears welling up and rolling down the edges of his eyes. 

“Bucky.” Steve's voice was sad. He didn't want Steve to be sad. It wasn't Steve's fault he was broken. “I'm going to touch your arm ok?” The tears doubled, falling faster as sobs began to shake his shoulders. They were all the way back to Steve broadcasting his movements? Had he fucked up that bad? His chest hurt like coming out of cryo. Everything hurt. 

The warmth of Steve's hand covered his arm. He didn't jump again. He had to fix it, had to make it better. “Can you come up on the couch with me?” Steve's voice was soft. He nodded frantically before dragging himself unceremoniously up onto the couch. When Steve sat next to him he sat for a moment, torn between wanting the comforting warmth of Steve's body and the desperate want to figure out how to fix everything he'd fucked up. Steve made the decision for him, an arm guiding him. He let himself drop into Steve's side.

Steve pulled a blanket over them both. Steve spoke quietly, his voice soothing. He pulled in great gulps of air, willing the tears to stop. It took several minutes before he could finally pull in a few breaths and calm himself down. He sat buried in Steve's side pulling in warm breaths of Steve's smell. He waited feeling increasingly anxious as he waited for the hammer to drop.

“Bucky?” He barely contained the panicked jump as Steve spoke. “Can you talk?” Steve's voice was quiet. Was he mad?

A roll of panic made nausea bloom in his stomach. “Stevie I'm sorry I didn't mean to freak out please don't be-”

“Stop.” Steve's voice cut him off. The panic rose higher in his chest. The steady weight of Steve's hand made him aware he was shivering again. “Bucky don't apologize ok? I'm not mad. I'm worried. If you weren't into it why didn't you say something?” 

For not being angry the last question didn't sound calm. “I'm sorry.” He whispered. “I was. I was enjoying it but then I panicked. I didn't mean to, I'm sorry.” He repeated. 

“Bucky. Stop. Please. Look at me ok?” He sat up just enough to see Steve's face. It was lined with worry. “I am going to ask you a few things. I want yes or no answers ok? Please.”

He nodded.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No!” He said. That wasn't a question.

“Did I do something you didn't like?” 

He thought a moment before shaking his head. All the things Steve had done were things he loved. “No.” He said quietly.

“Are you upset with me?” 

“No, can I ask a question?” He asked softly.

“Of course Buck.” Steve's hand brushed his cheek.

“Are you mad at me?” 

“Bucky, why would I be ma-” 

“Yes or no.” He said firmly.

“No Buck. I'm not mad. I'm worried I hurt you or triggered some memory or something.” He felt the knot in his stomach lessen. 

“You promise you're not mad?” he asked, fully aware he was being stupid but also unable to stop the question.

“I promise.” Steve said, leaning forward Steve brought their lips together.

When Steve leaned back he dropped his head to Steve's chest. “And we are ok?” He asked, addressing Steve's belly button since trying to look him in the eyes felt too intense.

“Bucky.” Steve said, his voice soft. “Of course we are ok.” Steve's hand ran across his cheek and into his hair, massaging softly at his scalp. “So, I'm going to tell you what I think I understand happened and if I'm wrong on any parts at the end you tell me ok?” Steve asked. He nodded.

“You were ok for the kneeling.” He nodded but Steve continued rather than waiting for his affirmation. “And you were ok during me jacking off and most of the blowjob but then you were not ok. Then you thought I was mad.” His tongue slipped out to wet his lips and Steve paused. “What did I say that was wrong?” Steve asked.

“I didn't…” he started before trailing off.

Steve smiled, “Buck I know that face, what did I get wrong.”

“Thought I was broken first, then thought you were mad.”

Steve looked like he wanted to comment but held his tongue. “But you know now I'm not mad right?”

He nodded. 

“Ok good. So, any idea where we went from good to bad?”

His first instinct was to shake his head but he stopped himself. “Couldn't breathe.” He said quietly.

“That's understandable. Lots of people would panic when that happened. From now on I will let go when I'm coming ok?” 

He nodded. “Thank you Stevie.” He said quietly, relief flowing through every inch of his body.

“Of course Buck.” Steve slipped a hand behind his neck and kissed him. When his tongue licked at Steve's lips Steve opened easily. 

He could feel when the kiss changed, moving them back to the moment before he panicked. Steve broke the kiss long enough to unfold his legs from under him before bringing their lips back together. Steve pressed against him, pushing him until he lay back against the couch. 

Steve's fingers ghosted over his chest and ribs. When Steve's thumb brushed over his nipple he arched into the contact. Steve's fingers never hesitated when they encountered the scars that dappled his chest, nor when he busted over the metal of his arm. The sensation was still different on his arm. Easy enough to ignore if that was the only contact but when paired with Steve's other hand on his skin the difference was obvious. The sensation in his left arm felt like static in comparison. 

Steve dropped a line of kisses across his cheek and down his neck before sucking up a bruise at the crook of his neck. He didn't bother trying to stop the soft moan that slipped from his lips. Steve's hands moved lower brushing over his hips, tracing the lines down towards his filling cock but carefully and maddeningly avoiding actually touching it. 

He'd been so focused on Steve's hand that the heat of Steve's lips around his nipple made him jump. Steve's tongue slipped out, teasing the already tight bead. Each swipe of Steve's tongue sent electricity shooting through him straight to his dick. He moaned, torn between wanting to arch into the sensation and pull away from the overwhelmingness of it.

Steve kissed gently down his stomach, occasionally nipping the skin as he went. Steve kissed right to the base of his cock before going around and down his thigh. “Stevie.” He whined. 

Steve chuckled, a soft warm sound. “What is it Buck?” He asked, dropping another kiss on his thigh.

“Please Stevie?” If Steve expected him to form anything like a real sentence right now he was fucked. 

Apparently that was all he needed. Steve moved up, fingers circling the base of his cock to angle it towards Steve's lips. Steve placed a brief kiss on the tip then smiled up at him. “Better?”

“Asshole.” He grumbled.

Steve flashed him a smile before opening his mouth and swallowing him completely on one fluid motion. He let out a strangled groan as his hips jerked reflexively. The head of his cock pushed against the back of Steve's throat and the other man swallowed around him. The rippling movement of Steve's throat pulled another moan from his lips. He wanted to lay back, close his eyes and focus but he couldn't take his eyes off the top of Steve's head. 

Steve pulled back his tongue hitting every sensitive spot like it had only been days since they last did this. He could already feel a heat building, he wasn't going to last long. “Fuck Stevie.” He said as Steve pulled back to lavish attention on his already sensitive head. “Not gonna last long.” He warned, eyes watching Steve's lips stretch as he sucked him back in again.

Steve nodded acknowledging his words before changing the pattern, taking him all the way in until he bumped Steve's the back of throat then pulling back until just the tip of his head remained in the heat of Steve's mouth. With each movement he could feel Steve's tongue tracing and poking and rubbing every sensitive spot. 

The pressure was building faster, almost too fast. He tried to warn Steve but wasn't sure his mouth and brain were still connected. In the next moment his vision went white as pleasure rolled through him. Steve didn't stop moving until the sensation began to move from pleasure to pain. 

He could feel Steve pulling him up, tucking a blanket back around them. He wrapped his arms around Steve's middle, his eyes already feeling far too heavy. “Thank you Stevie.” He managed through the fog of his mind. He was fairly sure Steve answered but before he could process it his eyes drifted shut and sleep overtook him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hella long chapter cause I was lazy and didn't feel like splitting it in half. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

October 9

His eyes snapped open. He was sitting up in bed already halfway through vaulting up. He struggled to pull back the nightmare that had sent him into panic but no memory came. His heart hammered with enough force he briefly wondered if his ribs would be able to contain it. He looked around, he was alone. Even though he and Steve had discussed it the night before waking up alone always felt disconcerting.

He dropped back into the bed rubbing his face. He felt exhausted. More and more over the last week he'd been waking up more tired than he'd gone to bed, nightmares chasing him to his feet before he even woke. He grabbed his phone and confirmed it was closer to afternoon than morning yet still he was exhausted.

Briefly he considered going back to sleep. Perhaps if he slept the day away he'd finally feel rested. He abandoned that idea. In spite of feeling tired, he knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep and if he did the nightmares would simply drive him back up.

He stood and wandered into the bathroom. After a quick shower and shaving he took Pup to the roof. A note on the table told him Steve had already fed her. It didn't stop Pup from begging for a second breakfast. He gave in and let her have a bit extra. 

As she ate he stepped into the elevator. “Shop” he grunted. Maybe he could stretch on the couch in the workshop. Sometimes he could sleep better there with the pounding of the music. The young inventor kids had stayed an extra week so he'd only just started coming back down to the lab earlier that week when they'd finally all left .When the elevator doors opened however the only sound that met his ears was shouting.

Pepper's voice rang clear over Tony's quieter protests, “I don't care Tony! I told you last time that I wasn't doing this again! No! That doesn't-” she trailed off as her eyes caught his.

He started to open his mouth, tell Jarvis to take him back upstairs but he caught sight of Tony and stopped. Tony lay shirtless on the medical table he'd been on when Tony worked on his arm. Uncertainty bloomed in his chest, “Tony? Are you ok?”

“Yeah Bucky I'm fine.” He called before turning to Pepper. “Please Pep? I promise it's needed or I wouldn't. This one is defective.”

“No! If it's defective you should leave it in until you find someone to take it and the shrapnel out and just be done! Tony I know you're smart enough to make the reactor for the suit without it having to  _ hurt _ you! This isn't retribution Tony. You aren't making up for before, your just torturing yourself.” The anger leached out of Pepper's tone. By the time she finished speaking the anger was replaced by sadness. “Please Tony. No more.”

Tony ran a hand over his face. “Pepper I can't leave it in, it's going to cause problems. And we have talked about the surgery before. There is no good way to do the surgery. They would have to reconstruct bone and repositio-”

“Fine.” Pepper snapped. She turned and grabbed a new reactor from the bench next to them. “But this is it Tony. I'm serious. This one better work or you will have to get DUM-E to help you next time because I'm done.” Her eyes snapped back to his, where he stood frozen just outside the elevator.

“He can stay.” Tony said.

Pepper's eyes dropped to Tony. “He can stay?” She repeated as though she had to have misheard him. When Tony didn't correct her it seemed to make her even more upset but she didn't speak again.

Tentatively he crossed the room. If it was not normal for people to get to stay then he might as well see what was happening. He realized he'd never seen Tony with his shirt on. Thick corded scars circled the arc reactor. It reminded him of the scars where his arm met his skin. 

As he came to stand by Tony he could see how pale the other man looked. Was it because if the defective reactor? No. He dismissed that when Tony's eyes met his. Tony was terrified. 

“Jarvis?” Pepper's voice clear when she spoke. 

“Yes Ms. Potts?” 

“Is emergency services on standby?”

“Yes Ms. Potts.” Jarvis said calmly.

_ Emergency services? _ He looked between Pepper and Tony but neither seemed forthcoming with why emergency services might be needed.

“Last time.” Pepper repeated. She picked up a round white tool from the table. She lined it up over the reactor. It whirred then clicked as he saw small pegs locked into place. Pepper turned it slowly. Tony went from pale to green like he might be sick but said nothing. Tony's hands were digging into his thighs enough he knew the man must be leaving bruises on himself. 

Pepper slowly lifted the reactor out of Tony's chest. With careful fingers she removed a piece in the back of the reactor then set the entire old reactor down on the bench. He couldn't stop himself leaning over. 

The housing for the reactor seemed to be a smooth metal cylinder. A small wire connected the part Pepper had removed from the back of the reactor to something he couldn't see at the back of the cylinder. 

She messed with the new reactor for a moment before speaking. “Ready?” 

Tony gave a tight nod. With sudden speed Pepper disconnected the last piece of the old one and reconnected the new. Tony swallowed gulps of air as Pepper easily turned the new reactor into place. She collected the old reactor, turned and left the lab her heels clicking her retreat.

“Tony are you ok?” He asked softly.

Tony still looked ghostly white and pale. “Just give me….a second…. I'll be good.” Tony said as he continued to pull in air. Tony pointed a shaky finger at the fridge. “Alcohol…. Any.” 

He darted to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of bourbon. He passed it to Tony who took a long drink. With shaky hands Tony pulled a tank top over his chest, hiding the new reactor. “Are you going to be ok? If she won't change it again.” 

Tony took another drink. “Always says that…. Doesn't mean…. Just scares her changing it.”

“Why would you need emergency services on standby.”

“Is nothing.” Tony took another drink. “Just a precaution.” Tony offered him the bottle. He swallowed a mouthful, letting the heat warm his throat before handing it back. Tony was starting to get some color back. “You ok? You aren't normally down this time of day.”

“Still can't sleep.” He said.

Tony turned and stood, moving into the lab. “Nightmares?”

“Must be but I can never remember them.” He said, giving voice to the frustration he'd been feeling. Once he spoke the words, a cold chill seemed to fill his chest.

Tony cut easily through the lab dropping on the couch. He sat next to him, their shoulders bumped as he leaned back. Tony passed the bottle back. “Why would you want to remember?” Tony asked.

“Feels double as frustrating to get woken up and not even know why.” He said. 

Tony nodded. “Yeah. That makes sense.” Tony took the bottle back when he offered it then fell silent. 

“You ok?” He asked, watching Tony. He still looked pale. Tony shrugged. He noticed the fingers not gripping the bottle pressed against the new reactor. “Does it hurt?” He asked uncertainly. Did it not fit right so it was bothering him?

“What?!” Tony said, his voice tight before dissolving into coughing. He patted Tony's back, uncertain how else to help. Tony dropped his weight against his side. The coughing fit subsided and they fell into silence.

When Tony passed the bottle back he took another swallow before speaking. “I just thought it was supposed to get easier.” he said quietly.

“It has hasn't it?” Tony asked. “Just think, eleven months when you came here you couldn't even really talk. Every trigger still worked, you thought we were enemies. That's all past now. That's some pretty massive improvements in less than a year.”

He nodded. He knew Tony was right but it didn't stop the chill in his chest that the alcohol seemed unable to touch. “Just feels like I should be normal by now.”

“Let me let you in on a little secret. We are all broken. Everyone on the fucking planet but especially here.” Tony drained the last of the bottle and set it on the coffee table. “You're doing great Bucky, even if it doesn't feel like it right now.”

They both fell back into silence. His eyes tracked lazily over the lab. He knew now what most of the machines did. The few he didn't he'd accepted were too complex for him to ever understand. Tony shifted, tucking tighter into his side. He rubbed Tony's shoulder. “What's your significantly more annoying half up to today?” Tony asked. 

He bumped against Tony for the jab at Steve but answered, “Working on the Halloween thing? What exactly happens at that?”

“The Halloween carnival?” Tony shifted again. “So downstairs we have a free carnival for the public. New York kids need somewhere safe to be on Halloween so they aren't causing trouble. Then we empty out the thirteenth floor and set up trick or treating, bouncy houses, face painting, food and it's open only to staff and families of Stark Industries. Normally most of us are there too, taking pictures, doing autographs, talking to people. We keep it staff only so it's a bit more secure and also is a thank you for working here. Are you going to be there taking pictures with us?”

He scoffed, “No one wants pictures with me Tony.”

“That's not what I heard. Steve said on the fourth that more people than not wanted a picture with you both. People see you as a hero, same as the rest of us.”

Memories of that day flicked through his mind. “If anyone thinks I'm a hero it's only because they are completely unaware of the trail of death I've left behind.”

“You're wrong. Your trial was one of the most watched things in history. The whole world watched. Every single mission file was read out. Steve, Nat, Bruce, Clint and I were all there every day for weeks on end making sure that everyone knew just because you did those things that it wasn't really you.” 

His stomach rolled threatening to send the alcohol in him back up. Tony knew then, about his parents. Someone had told him Tony knew, Steve maybe, but hearing Tony say it somehow felt worse. Tony was still talking, he forced himself to focus.

“But that's not what most of the population thinks. So trust me, lots of people would want to take a photo with you.”

He'd missed what the population did or didn't think. He didn't really care to know. “I'll be there but I'm not doing the photos thing.”

Tony shrugged, “That's fair. I think Clint is coming with Laura and the kids.”

“Doesn't he like to keep them a secret?” He asked surprised.

Tony nodded. “They don't engage with him when he's here. They just blend in with the crowd. Don't know if Bruce or Thor will be back yet. I haven't heard from them honestly. Oh I was going to…” Tony fished his phone out of his pocket and called. 

He heard ringing then a voice on the other line answered, “Hey Mr. Stark. Everything ok?”  _ Peter _ .

“Yeah, hey kid listen does Spider-Man want to make an appearance at the Halloween carnival? We are-” Tony jerked the phone away from his ear as Peter practically screamed yes, then a moment later began to babble a stream of thank yous as well as questions. “Peter...Peter...Peter!” Tony said his voice getting louder each time. On the third Peter the other side of the call went quiet. “Come by the tower tonight we can work out details.”

“Yes Mr. Stark. Thank you so much! I will be there.” Tony cut the line before Peter could speak again.

“I'm going up to bed Buck. You probably should too.”

He stood and followed Tony to the elevator. It let him off in the apartment before taking Tony up to his space above. He sat on the couch, tired but also aware he wouldn't be able to sleep. Pulling out his phone he searched for the trail. Tony hadn't been lying, his search met with hundreds of thousands of results. He found one titled “day one” and started it on the TV. 

As day 6 started a hand dropped in his shoulder making him jump. “Bucky what the hell are you watching?” Steve's voice was tight.

“My trial.” He said quietly.

“Why?”

He opened his mouth to answer but no reason came. He'd been curious at first. Tony had a tendency to exaggerate. Surely it wasn't that public. But then as each one played the cold in his chest seeped slowly out until it filled him completely. He'd wanted to stop watching but even moving to get his phone to stop it, or telling Jarvis to stop it had felt like more than he doing bear to do. Steve was still waiting on an answer. He tried again. “Tony and I were talking about it earlier.” He tried to keep his tone light and easy. He didn't quite manage it.

“Jarvis stop the video. Bucky, never again ok?” The words sounded like Steve was trying to make it an order but an order wasn't needed. He never wanted to watch that again.

“How did the Halloween stuff go?” He asked wanting to get away from this topic and also needing Steve to start talking again. 

“Fine. I got the vendors and the inflatable company locked in. What's going on Buck?” Steve asked.

He shrugged. He didn't have a good answer. “Feel cold.” He said.

Steve reached down and touched his forehead. “No fever. Cold like outside on a cold day or cold inside like in your chest?”

“Inside.” 

Steve nodded. His tone shifted. “Come with me.” The order helped some but the coldness seemed to redouble against the comfort he felt at standing and following. He heard Steve give Jarvis a floor but didn't pay attention. The elevator opened on the hot tub floor. “Strip.” Steve said, then “Jarvis lock down the floor.” 

He heard Jarvis reply before pulling his shirt over his head. He tossed his clothes in a pile on one of the chairs that scattered the room then dropped easily to his knees. He realized after the fact Steve hadn't asked for him to kneel. Still without knowing what was coming it felt easiest. 

Steve stripped without turning to look at him until he was completely nude. He could see the pattern of random scars over Steve's back that his fingers were slowly learning. Steve seemed unbothered by the scars and he enjoyed feeling the texture of each.

Surprise was obvious on Steve's face when he turned around. “I didn't mean for you to kneel Buck.” Steve said crossing to stand in front of him. He noticed Steve stood pointedly off center, keeping his half hard cock in line with his shoulder rather than his mouth. Steve's hand threaded into his hair rubbing his scalp softly. He let his eyes close at the attention. Steve circled him once before patting his shoulder. “Up.” He rose fluidly, standing next to Steve. “In you go.” Steve said, pulling his shoulder to turn him in the direction of the water. 

He slipped in. The heat seeped into his skin and he let out a long quiet sigh. A soft splash told him Steve had joined him. Steve's arms snaked around his chest. He leaned into the pressure easily, letting himself be pulled back into Steve's chest. Steve hummed happily. He knew normally he'd be happy but nothing seemed to push through the cold emptiness in his chest.

He shifted and Steve loosened his grip. He turned, folding himself against Steve's chest. It was still strange to think this was still his Stevie. So many years of dwarfing the other man was hard to erase. Steve wrapped around him, holding him close. He tucked his nose into Steve's collar bone, enjoying the closeness. Steve's fingers made gentle lines up and down his back, the soft sound of his hands entering and leaving the water the loudest sound in the room. 

“Feeling any better or about the same?” Steve asked.

“Same.” He said. It required no thought. While the warm water and Steve's hold was nice it didn't do anything to help the cold he felt. 

“So I'm no expert, but I think you may be having some depression.” Steve said softly.

His head snapped up, “No. I'm but sad about anything. It's not that.”

“Buck you don't have to be sad to be depressed. Sometimes it just happens.”

“That doesn't even make sense.” The cold was spreading, filling his chest. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. 

“Depression doesn't always make sense.”

“Well how the fuck am I supposed to fix it then?!” He pushed hard on Steve's chest. Steve released him easily. He regretted the loss of contact almost immediately. 

“It isn't always a fixable thing Buck. Some people live their whole lives with depression.” Steve continued to speak but his words were drowned out by the shout of frustration he aimed at Steve. Steve paused and when he stopped continued as if he'd had no interruption. “There are different things that help different people. Some get the best help with medicine or therapy. Some people exercise and staying busy really helps. But for tonight I'm thinking let's stay in here until you're ready, then go upstairs. We can curl up on the couch under the big blanket and watch Twilight Zone, order in some pizza and just spend time together. Does that sound ok?”

He nodded. It sounded more than ok. Steve opened his arms, and he stepped forward immediately into the invitation. Steve's hands ran up and down his back.

By the time they went to bed that night he felt at least some better. 

October 18

In reality it took almost a week for him to feel completely back to normal. A combination of manual labor helping set up for the carnival and spending nights cuddled up to Steve finally seemed to hit the right combination.

He sat in Tony's lab listening to Pepper and Tony talk. Pepper had just finished getting the last few things together for the Halloween party and had called Tony to be sure he'd done his part. Peter sat on the workbench, playing on his phone. Peter had shown up an hour ago and he and Tony had been working on web fluid design. It was interesting to watch them work together on it.

While Tony would never admit it to Peter, the actual mixing of the chemicals seemed to be outside of Tony's vast skill set. It was clear Tony understood the math and science behind it but when it came to mixing things he preferred to guide Peter than do it himself.

The call with Pepper ended and Tony pulled Peter back into their discussion. Peter had tried, the first many times he and Tony had worked on formulas, to pull him into the conversations. It took a few times for him to realize he was miles behind Peter and Tony. He'd finally told Peter unless he needed to know how to eliminate a target in the middle of a camp without being spotted he wouldn't have any input.

Tony laughed, pulling him back out of his thoughts. Peter was blushing and babbling, trying to defend a point. His phone chirped and he pulled it out of his pocket. “You still haven't picked a different text sound?” Tony asked

“Shut your mouth, you filthy muggle.” he said, digging out his phone. Peter dissolved into laughter at the expression on Tony's face. He checked the text. Steve wanted his help with setting up something else for Halloween. 

“Gonna go help Steve.” He said, standing. Peter waved as he left.

Steve stood in the middle of the now empty floor. All the dividers that had split the floor into small conference areas had been broken apart last week and leaned on the wall. He crossed to Steve who folded him into a hug. His hand caught the back of Steve's neck pulling him hard into a kiss. Steve arched into it before pushing back. “No.” Bucky pulled him back into a kiss. “Buck. Knock it off. We have work to do and this floor isn't secure.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on Stevie. Who else would be coming here? Halloween is still more than a week away.” He pushed his leg between Steve's. Steve was already half hard. Steve's hips ground against his leg and Steve's breath caught in his throat. Steve had woken them both up at 4 that morning by grinding into the bed. He didn't know exactly what Steve had been dreaming but he definitely recognized Steve staying busy to try to distract himself from the semi he'd been sporting most of the morning. “You are the only one working on this and you know it.”

“Buck stop if someone comes in…”

“If someone comes in what?” He challenged, a grin on his face. They had still been teenagers the first time Steve had used that particular argument. Back then the threat had been much more real. Still it hadn't stopped Steve from loving the sex they'd had in the particularly deserted park and it definitely hadn't stopped Steve from asking again. He didn't give Steve a chance to answer the question, pulling Steve back into the kiss.

Steve didn't pull away. Instead Steve's hands slipped up under his shirt, fingernails digging softly into his back. He hummed into the kiss before catching Steve's bottom lip and biting. It earned a soft groan from Steve. The sound seemed to reverberate in the otherwise empty room. Steve's head snapped back at the sound but he used the moment to suck a bruise on Steve's neck. By the time the mark started to purple Steve was panting softly.

He freed the button on Steve's pants, pulling Steve's cock free. Steve's hips thrust into his grip, struggling for purchase. He stroked Steve slowly as he pulled his cock free as well. Stepping closer to Steve he wrapped his hand around them both, and returned to stroking. 

Steve's lips crashed back into his as Steve continued to rock his hips. Based on the noises Steve was making he wouldn't last long. He tightened his grip pulling himself closer. He matched the thrust of Steve's hips. 

Steve's hand pushed between them, swatting his hand away. He moved and Steve's hand wrapped around them both, stroking down to meet the thrust of their hips. His hand moved up to hold Steve's arm, keeping their bodies close.

It only took a few moments before Steve's lips crashed back into his and he swallowed Steve's moan as he came. The throb and twitch of Steve's cock coupled with the warm splash of come between them was enough to drive him over the edge after Steve. Steve stroked them both through then stilled, both cocks still held on his hand. They stood, foreheads pressed together panting for several moments.

Steve pulled his shirt off and wiped off his hand before cleaning them both up. “Ass.” Steve grumbled but a grin still shown on his face.

“Poor Stevie. S'what you get wakin me up humping the mattress like a horny teenager.”

“Fuck you.” Steve said, tossing the dirty shirt into the corner. He pulled his own shirt off as well. It was dirty too. “So the actual reason I wanted you down here--.”

“Aww Stevie it wasn't for a hand job? I'm crushed.” He laughed as Steve threw a lazy punch at his shoulder. 

“Was to move those,” he pointed at the dividers, “to storage.” 

He groaned. “You know we are rich, living in a tower with someone a billion times more rich. We could get people to do this.” He complained before moving to follow Steve across the room.

October 31

Steve's hand on his arm jolted him awake. With a groan he rubbed his eyes. “Fuck Stevie what time's it?” he mumbled. 

“Come on Buck. Gotta get up and get something to eat. We need to get down stairs.” He cracked his eyes open. Steve was already fully dressed, in civilian clothes at least, and holding a cup of coffee.

He sat scrubbing at his face. “Seriously Stevie what time is it?” He asked but Steve left without answering.  _ Too fucking early.  _ He decided. Pulling his phone off the charger he checked the time. Six in the damn morning. When was the last time he'd been up this fucking early? His mind immediately tried to answer that question but he pushed the thoughts away. No reason to think of Hydra this early.

After a shower he felt at least human adjacent. He walked into the living room. “So Stevie, I'm not sure if anyone mentioned this but Trick or Treating normally starts  _ after _ dark so there is no reason to be up at the ass crack of dawn.”

Steve threw an apple at his face. “Quit whining and eat. We need to get down stairs.” He took a bite of the apple Steve had thrown. 

They stepped off the elevator at almost exactly 7. He immediately understood Steve's rush. A line of people stood at the door. He hesitated as Steve moved to unlock the front door. Trick or Treating  _ did _ start after dark right? “Buck come here.” Steve told him. “We need to get everyone inside and lined up.”

He nodded. Thankfully everyone seemed ready enough to get out of the cool morning air that they happily formed the requested line against the wall. Steve locked the doors behind them before moving to address the group. “Good morning everyone.” There was a general murmured reply. “Thank you all for your patience and agreeing to help today. We are going to make this as quick and easy as possible so you can all get started.” 

He leaned against the wall, listening to Steve settle into his Captain voice. It was interesting, he noticed, that while it had the same edge of an order, the tone was completely different from when Steve ordered him around. 

He pulled himself out of his thoughts as Steve continued. “...and a badge which you can use to come and go as needed. Please be aware that Jarvis will be watching at all times to be sure that you are the only one coming and going using your badge. Say hi Jarvis.”

“Good morning everyone.” Jarvis said. He couldn't help the smile that spread as several people in the line jumped. 

The next hour was spent taking photos, entering names and making temporary badges for everyone. Just as he thought they were finished he noticed a line starting to form outside. “Uhh Stevie?” He said, motioning to the door with his eyes. 

“Yeah that's the second group.” 

“ _ Second group?”  _ He asked.

By group four he had settled into the monotony of herding people like cattle. As the last person in group 4 received their badge he was relieved to see no new line had formed. 

Jarvis spoke suddenly. “All exhibitors and staff please come the front atrium.” Steve's hand on his arm guided him up to the base of the stairs. Everyone filed in both from outside and upstairs until the everyone was packed together from the stairs to the front doors. They all looked at them and he wondered if Steve had another announcement to make. The sound of footsteps behind him made him turn. Tony was walking down the stairs. A few people in the group clapped and several wolf whistled. 

He was surprised to see Tony had forgone his normal t-shirt and jeans for what was obviously a custom tailored suit. His hair was fixed and he looked like he might have actually gotten some sleep the night before. Honestly he looked really good. Tony stopped on the step above Steve and him, putting Tony a few inches taller than he was. “Good morning everyone.” Tony said. Unlike Steve, Tony's voice held no orders. Instead his voice was warm and smooth. Tony began to outline the days events as well as where everyone needed to be for setting up. While Tony's voice and demeanor practically oozed confidence, each time Tony paused he saw a muscle in Tony's jaw twitch. 

“As a thank you for your participation today, if everyone will come up the stairs to the elevators there is a free breakfast for everyone on the 3rd floor now. Lunch will be available after 1.” Tony finished. Immediately people moved forward. Tony stepped behind him and Steve and people flowed around them. It took less than two minutes for the atrium to be completely empty. 

Steve turned to face Tony and he followed suit. “Tony you look amazing.” He said. Tony visibly relaxed. 

“I'm going to try to pretend I didn't hear the surprise in your tone.” Tony said but he was smiling all the same. “Any trouble this morning?” Tony asked Steve, the smile dropping slightly. Tony remained on the step above Steve, making Steve have to look up to see into his eyes.

“Nope. It went fine.” Steve said, his tone clipped only slightly. 

He couldn't help but wonder what it was that made them unable to relax around each other. “No one told me we had to get up so fucking early though.” He grumbled.

“I told you we had to get up early!” Steve said.

“No! You said  _ you _ had to get up early. I had no idea I was included!” He said.

Tony laughed. “We should probably get up stairs. All the employee vendors will get here soon. Pepper is coordinating the food so we don't have to drop in and talk to anyone.” 

“There are more vendors?” He groaned. 

“They are already in the system. Same people from last year except maybe one or two and they were here earlier so no more badges needed.” Tony said.

“Damn Tony look at you being on top of everything.” He said following as Tony began to walk to the elevators.

“Fuck you!” Tony said but he didn't sound mad. “You forget I run a multi- _ billion _ dollar industry.”

“Pepper runs most of it doesn't she?” He asked, genuinely unsure.

Tony thankfully was smiling when he turned back around. “That's fair. Pepper does more than I could imagine. But I still run the damn company.”

He laughed. “Okay okay sorry. I have only ever seen you panicking as you run to the most recent thing you've forgotten.”

“I just...I forget to look at the clock when I'm tinkering. That's all.” Tony said quietly.

The thirteenth floor was still as empty as it had been after he and Steve had cleared things off. A man stood in the middle of the room. He tensed slightly but both Tony and Steve looked like the man had been expected so he followed, staying a half step behind Steve just in case.

“Happy, have you met Bucky?” Tony asked as he reached the man. Happy, as Tony had called him was a larger man who at the moment liked completely harassed. “Happy is our head of security.” Tony said.

“No I haven't. Nice to meet you Sargent Barnes.” Happy held out a hand which he shook.

“Nice to meet you Happy. Please call me Bucky.” Happy gave him a brief nod before turning to Tony and beginning to unload tons of information rapid fire. He couldn't begin to keep up but Tony seemed to do just fine. When Happy finally stopped Tony rattled back a reply almost as fast as Happy had spoken. As they finished the elevator dinged, strangely magnified in the empty space. 

A group of people began pouring out of the elevator. Happy whirled around and barked “Badges out.” At everyone before turning to Tony and clarifying a few things. 

He settled next to Steve, completely unsure of their current role. At least he knew Steve would tell him when he had something he needed. Happy crossed to everyone and pointed something at each person's badge. Each time he did the box would beep and the person would move from the group. As the group spread out apparently setting up claims to certain parts of the floor Tony moved to stand next to him. “Everything ok?” He asked Tony. 

“Hmm? Oh yeah. Just last minute stuff. No matter how much planning you do this shit never goes completely to plan.” Tony said easily. “Thankfully we are done with everything that isn't supervising.”

He felt a wave of relief roll over him. Once everyone had been beeped in, Tony moved into the middle of the room. “Welcome back everyone! And hello to the few new people.” Tony's eyes scanned the room and he nodded to the new vendors. They were easy to spot, they all had the star stuck look of the people in the lobby below. The past venders didn't look nearly as in awe of Tony. “Before I start, every year we have someone who swears they couldn't hear me end up causing issues so. Can everyone hear me?” Tony began to turn, meeting eyes with each person in turn and waiting for them to nod. As he watched Tony turning he felt a strange sense of familiarity. It took him a moment to place it. Howard. Tony's stance, his tone, even his movements looked like Howard addressing a crowd.

Tony continued, “A few quick ground rules, only you can use that badge to get in. If you bring a friend or you give it to someone the elevator  _ will _ stop and you _ will have to use the emergency call button _ . And if that happens you'll be explaining to our head of security and the police why you are violating your contract and that's not fun for anyone. If you're still needing tickets for friends or family talk to Happy we can see what we can do but it will be tight so do that immediately.”

“Any questions?” He looked around but everyone was shaking their heads. “Lunch will be brought up in about an hour. Steve, Bucky, and I will be in and out but our head of security will be here most of the day if you have any questions.”

Tony turned to walk back to them. Two of the new vendors darted out to catch Tony's attention. Tony paused to talk to them. Both girls, one blonde one brunette, seemed to be doing everything in their power to make Tony notice their incredibly low cut shirts. If their intentions hadn't been obvious he overheard one asking about an after party. 

To Tony's credit, his eyes never left the girls faces as they talked. When the blonde asked about the after party Tony smiled and said, “Sorry lady tonight is for the kids. If you have any other questions Mr. Hogan will be happy to help.” And with that Tony turned and walked back to them. “Upstairs?” Tony said, passing between him and Steve before cutting a quick path to the elevator.

They ended up in the main common room. Tony pulled off his suit jacket, hanging it off a chair. He walked over to the bar. “Buck, Steve, drink?” Tony held up a bottle of alcohol. 

“Sure.” He said easily, walking over to the bar.

“I can't get drunk.” Steve said. Tony raised an eyebrow but remained still, waiting. “That means no Tony.” He said, sounding exasperated.

“Just because you can't get drunk doesn't mean you can't drink Stevie.” he said, taking the offered glass.

“What's the point?” Steve asked. “Not exactly like it's got a good flavor.” 

“Pour him one too Tony.” He said. 

Steve glared at him but took the glass when it was set on the counter. 

Tony's phone rang from his coat pocket. He crossed the room and answered. Happy's face shown on the screen. Tony dropped onto the couch. He followed sitting next to Tony, curious to see what Happy wanted. Steve followed more slowly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve take a mouthful of the amber liquid, hesitate then take another drink. 

He and Steve had grown up on the cheapest shit alcohol money could buy. He was pretty sure Steve forgot that Tony had the good stuff. It was disappointing to never get more than a soft buzz now.

“Tony I don't know what you said to those two girls but as soon as you left they threw their badges at me at left. We are a vendor short.”

“See Cap.  _ This _ is why I don't like bringing in new people upstairs.”

“Tony everyone has to have a first year once. Just because they were hoping to party with you doesn't make new vendor bad.” Steve threw back the rest of the liquid in his glass before sitting next to him. 

The couch wasn't really wide enough for three adult men. His shoulders bumped Tony and Steve as he shifted to make room. 

“It's ok. I already had a plan for this. I'll be down in ten to fix things.” Tony's eyes flashed at Steve's from his other side.

He passed his drink to Steve who drained half the glass in one go before passing it back. Dozens of memories of he and Stevie in their apartment passing a bottle back and forth passed through his mind. Memories to what the alcohol often lead to tried to creep in as well but he pushed that away. Being horny when he was supposed to deal with people all day wouldn't be great.

“Buck.” Tony's hand on his knee made him jump. “Want to come with and help out?” He shrugged. 

“Sure Tony.” He followed Tony as he grabbed his jacket and walked to the elevator. The last thing he saw was Steve crossing to the bar. “You know that this isn't really Steve's fault right?” He asked. 

Tony smiled. “No fun if I can't give him a hard time is it. These events, I love doing it for the kids but the fucking logistics are a nightmare. Jarvis stop on 3, I want to check on Pepper.”

The elevator slowed and Tony stepped out. It was obvious even when in normal operations this floor was mainly for eating and relaxing. Dozens of food shops lined the walls. Tables of various sizes filled most of the middle of the room. Comfortable benches and couches were scattered around. On the far side of the room a wall of glass blocked off areas for basketball, pool, TVs and other entertainment. 

Pepper stood in a group of people all dressed in serving outfits. Her voice was clear in the quiet as she gave direction. Her eyes met Tony's and a look of worry passed over her face. Tony made a hand gesture and the worry passed. Pepper continued to speak. Tony settled, leaning against a table to wait for her to finish.

As Pepper finished and everyone turned to leave Tony spoke. “And as a thank you for working tonight they will be an extra thousand on everyone's next check.”

The workers all reacted immediately. Some cheered, others jumped up and down or gasped. As they moved away they all chattered happily amongst each other.

“Everything ok?” Pepper asked. Tony opened his arm and she settled easily into his side.

“Just checking on you.” Tony said. “One of the employee vendors bounced out when they figured out that there wasn't an after party.” 

Pepper rolled her eyes. “You would think they would know by now. How are you Bucky?” She asked, turning to look at him. 

“I'm fine.” He said easily. 

“I'm going to move that older woman who does face painting upstairs.” Tony told Pepper, who nodded.

“She seemed nice.”

“Did anyone give you trouble?” Tony asked. 

Pepper shook her head. “One group tried to claim they all had really specific food allergies to try to get better food. The got a few pieces of fruit to share. They were less than pleased.” 

Tony laughed. “Steve's up in the common room. We will be back up there after we speak with her. Do you have the list? What was her name?” Tony asked.

“Georgia.” Pepper said, reading off a list.

“Thank you.” Tony said, kissing her before they headed towards to elevator.

Pepper took a separate lift going up. Tony took a slow breath as the elevator doors closed. Stepping out at the top of the stairs in the atrium it was pandemonium. Hundreds of voices talking, people moving in tables and supplies. No one noticed them as they stepped off the elevator. “Stick close.” Tony said before moving down the stairs.

Without thinking he dropped a hand into Tony's shoulder. Memories of escorting Hydra officers this way flashed under the surface of his mind but the current throng of people kept him from delving too deep. 

He and Tony wove through the crowd. Some people quieted to look as they passed but most were too busy moving things to notice their passing. Tony approached an older African American woman who sat next to a table. She had long hair that was braided into a plat down her back. A bag of supplies sat on the table next to her. Tony moved to stand next to her.

When she noticed him she jumped. “Oh! Mr Stark you scared the devil out of me!” She said a hand over her heart.

Tony smiled and leaned forward to speak to her. For a moment all he could hear was the din of the others talking. He forced himself to focus and the other voices faded until he could only hear Tony. “We have had someone upstairs cancel due to a personal emergency. Based on your credentials, I had you picked as our first back up. Would you be willing to come work at the employees carnival instead?”

The woman looked excited for a moment then her face fell. “I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. My son and his wife are bringing the grandbaby and I want to get to see them.”

Tony flashed her a smile. “Easy fix. I can get them passes to come to the employee carnival too. How old is your grandbaby? We would love to get a picture with them and the Avengers that will be here tonight.”

The woman's eyes lit up. “Really? You would do that?” When Tony nodded she jumped out of her seat and hugged him. Tony seemed unphased by a random stranger hugging him. 

“Is that a yes then?” Tony asked, when she let him go.

“Yes! Thank you so much!! Emmanuel will be so excited!” 

“Are these yours?” He asked, motioning to the supplies.

“Oh, yes.” She said. He picked them up. “Thank you. You're so sweet, both of you.” 

Tony escorted her up to the correct floor and tasked Happy with getting her the correct badge and the family tickets.

Back up to the common room where Pepper and Steve suddenly fell silent when Tony stepped into the room. He crossed to tuck himself into Steve's side, wrapping his arms lazily around Steve's middle. “So what now?” He asked. His ears seemed almost to ring after the noise from below.

“Now we can relax.” Tony said as he returned his jacket to the chair. “We are all on call for any emergencies but otherwise we can just relax.”

A knock at the balcony window made everyone jump. Peter, in full costume was standing in the landing. Tony crossed and unlocked the door letting Peter in. He stepped away from Steve “Hey Pete.” 

“Hey Bucky, Steve, Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts.” Peter said pulling off his mask.

“Oh my God! Tony I need to speak with you.” Pepper grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him to the elevator. He realized Pepper had never seen Peter without his mask. Tony and Pepper returned a few minutes later. Neither said a word about what they had talked about.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Around 6 that evening Natalia, Clint, Laura and the kids arrived. After a brief catch up he and Steve returned to the apartment so they could get ready for things to start around 7.

He stretched out on the bed as Steve changed into his Captain America gear. “You sure you don't want to be part of the pics Buck?” Steve asked.

“Yeah Stevie, I'm good. I am not an Avenger. People don't want pictures of me.” 

“Hey Peter isn't an Avenger either.” Steve said.

“Yeah but he's still out there saving people and shit.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I'll be down there. That's plenty of participation for me.”

Steve sighed. “Fine. Still think more people would like pictures than you'd expect.”

He stood, crossing the room and trapping Steve on the wall with his body. It had been easier when they were kids. He couldn't help but wonder, as he waited for Steve's surprise to fade, which of them would win in a real fight. He trapped Steve's lips with his own, making sure the weight of his body kept Steve firmly pinned on the wall. Not that Steve was making any escape attempts.

When he pulled back Steve was panting softly. He shifted and his thigh met Steve's dick now completely rock hard. “Still takes nothing to get you wound up.” He purred.

“Asshole.” Steve pushed him back and he went willingly. “Now I have to fucking calm down before we can go.”

He laughed. It took Steve a solid ten minutes to calm down enough they could return downstairs. Tony was addressing the group of vendors one last time. He spotted Georgia in the group looking at Tony like he hung the moon. His eyes took in Clint and Natalia, both in the same gear he'd seen in the clips of Loki's attack. Tony had also switched to his Ironman suit. 

The room had changed completely in the intervening hours. Several food vendors with things like hotdogs and cotton candy sat near the entrance. Dozens of places kids could trick or treat were spread around the room. The hum of air pumps filled the room keeping several inflatable play areas filled. An area in the back corner was set up for pictures.

Tony finished speaking and they all crossed into the corner as the first wave of children and parents streamed out of the elevator. Within minutes the floor was packed. Children's shrieks of happiness filled the space. He settled against a wall close enough he and Steve could still easily see each other but far enough back he wasn't caught in the mass of people that was the line to see everyone.

He relaxed, watching parents and children moving around. Costumes had definitely improved since he and Stevie were kids. Costumes of the Avengers seemed common. He saw a few homemade Spiderman costumes moving through the crowd. Peter probably loved that. He couldn't help but smile when he saw children carrying tiny Captain America shields. 

It was roughly an hour before anyone approached him. A man, child in tow, came to stop in front of him. “Excuse me, Sergeant Barnes? I just wanted to thank you for your service.” The man held out his hand. He took it easily. 

“Thank you.” He said.

Quite to his surprise the child also extended his hand. “Thank you.” The boy said. He smiled and knelt to be at eye level before shaking the boys hand to.

“Could we get a picture?” The man asked. 

“Yeah sure.” A woman appeared from the crowd. The man picked up his son and they stood together for a picture.

“Thanks again.” The man said, walking away.

It was as if everyone had just been waiting on permission and now the floodgates were open. He was suddenly surrounded by people wanting photographs and to shake his hand or just talk to him. By the time he finally worked through the crowd at least two hours had past. The sun had set and the low lights in the room cast everything into contrast. The only area that remained well lit was where they were all taking pictures. 

He watched them, happy for a pause. Steve was letting someone, a teen boy, hold his shield as they took the picture. The next one everyone got involved. He smiled when he saw Laura bring the kids up for a picture with Clint. They all managed to act like they didn't know each other. It must be hard.

A soft voice from near his left hip pulled his attention back. “Excuse me.”

He looked down. A girl, maybe 4 or 5 looked up at him. She wore a homemade costume that was very obviously supposed to be him, right down to the metal arm and dark wig that barely covered blonde hair. “Hi.” He said completely at a loss for words. 

“Gem.” A man's voice broke through the crowd. “There you are you can't run off like that!” A harassed man in his early thirties appeared. “Sorry about that Sergeant Barnes.” The man said with a smile. “You are her absolute favorite. She saw you and had to come over.”

“No it's ok.” He said. He knelt. “It's nice to meet you Gem.” He said, smiling. “You can call me Bucky.”

Gem's eyes lit up. She leaned close to be heard over the noise. “You are my favorite because you are like me.” She said. Her left hand moved to carefully touch the plate of his shoulder. For a moment he paused not understanding. Then he noticed her right arm, the one that has made to look like metal, hung limply at her side and was far too thin to fit an actual limb inside. She only had one arm. 

Her fingers spread softly over the metal plates of his arm. “Daddy says someday I can get an arm like yours.” She said her eyes coming up to meet his. They were the same shade of green his sister's eyes had been. He glanced up at her father who was smiling sadly.

“Gem was born with only one arm.” he explained. “We are hoping to get her a prosthetic when she gets a little older. At this age she would grow out of them so fast we can't afford it.”

He frowned. “People have to pay for their kids to have prosthetics?”

The man looked surprised by the question. “Well, yeah I mean insurance helps some but-” the man stopped as he stood. 

“Give me your number. I will work with Tony to get her one for free.” The man's mouth fell open.

“Well...I…you don't.” The man stammered but he pulled out a pen and paper all the same. 

He knelt back next to Gem. “Hey. Mr. Stark and I are going to work really hard and get you an arm just like mine really soon ok?” He asked softly around a lump in his throat. 

Gem's eyes lit up and she threw her arm around him. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She said both jumping and hugging him at the same time. He wrapped his arms around her and stood, lifting her with him. “Daddy did you hear?!” Gem squealed in his ear. 

“Yes sweetheart. He told me.” The man passed the slip of paper with a name and phone number. “Thank you Sergeant Barnes.” The man said quietly, his eyes glassy. “If there is anything we can do to repay-”

“No. It's ok. Parents shouldn't have to shoulder the burden of things like this. Parenting is hard enough. I'll talk to Tony and we will start making a prototype as soon as possible. I will be in touch.” He took a picture with them before they disappeared into the crowd. 

Another wave of people flooded him and he took pictures, signed autographs and greeted then each in turn but the slip of paper felt heavy in his pocket. He was ready for tonight to be over. He needed to talk to Tony.

As the carnival started to wind down he was relieved to see Tony had hired a company to clean and help with tear down. He headed up to the common room to wait for Tony and the others to come back from changing. Laura and the kids were already there. The kids had changed into pajamas and he guessed they were either spending the night or would fly out then Clint returned. He smiled but didn't try to start a conversation. The kids were still wound up from the fun and she was already busy.

The elevators opened and he spun to find it was just Clint and Natalia. “We are going to get in the air. Tell Tony thanks from us?” Clint said, dropping a hand onto his shoulder as he passed.

“Sure.” He said fighting the urge to pace. He realized as the floor emptied that the way he felt was entirely too much like trying to finish a mission but he pushed that idea away. When the elevators came open again it was Tony, Pepper, Steve and Peter who emerged. “Tony can I talk to you really quickly?” He blurted out before the group even managed to step off of the elevator.

“Peter, come help me pick out pizza.” Pepper said, turning Peter towards the bar and opening her tablet.

“Buck is everything ok?” He heard Steve ask but he focused on Tony who spoke.

“What's up?”

“I want to go ahead with the new arm.” He said.

Tony and Steve both looked surprised but Tony found his voice first. “Sure Buck. I can get started on it overnight. I'll just-”

Steve cut across him. “Bucky.” His voice was slow like someone speaking to a frightened animal. Anger bloomed in his chest. “You know I always support you but what changed?”

“Why does something have to have changed?” He snapped, freeing the anger that started to build. 

“Because just a few weeks ago you told me in no uncertain terms no one would ever make changes to your arm ever.” Steve continued, his tone hardening some.

“I changed my mind.” He snapped though the anger was fading out as quickly as it started. When neither Tony or Steve spoke he hesitated. He honestly hadn't expected to have to try to explain himself. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Licking his lips he spoke. “There was a kid down there, a little girl born with only one arm. Her parents can't afford a prosthetic she's just going to grow out of. I want to make something for her.”

“Okay.” Steve said slowly. Steve paused as if waiting for him to continue but when he didn't Steve spoke instead. “Bucky that's really great that you want to do that and I'm sure Tony is more than happy to help but why does your arm need changed for that?”

He frowned. He thought that had been the obvious part. “Someone has to test it.”

That had been the wrong thing to say. Steve's eyes went wide. “Bucky you're not a fucking guinea pig! There are other ways to… You don't! No. No! You're not going to do something you don't want to do just to be a damn lab rat! Tony will think of something else.”

He glanced around. Peter and Pepper were resolutely not looking at them. Tony looked shocked both by his words and Steve's outburst. He grabbed Steve by the hair and slammed their mouths together. He swallowed the last few shouts before Steve's body softened against him. 

He stepped back. Steve's glare returned but before Steve could build up another head of steam he spoke. “You're right. I didn't want to but sometimes it's worth it to trust friends if it's something better in the long run.” He glanced over at Tony remembering the fear and trust in his eyes as Pepper replaced the reactor. If Tony could trust someone to take out something that literally kept him alive, he should be able to trust Tony to get his arm replaced.

“I. Still. I don't like you using your body as a test subject.” Steve said softly.

“We aren't just going to slap something on him.” Tony sounded annoyed. “We will run every test possible ahead of time.”

“We?” Steve asked sharply, turning to look at Tony.

He could see Tony visibly bristle under Steve's harsh tone, pulling himself up to reply. He spoke before Tony could. “Peter and Shuri will help too. Right Tony?” He asked.

Both then visible relaxed as he spoke. “Yeah that's right.” Tony said.

“Awesome. So are we good because I'm hungry?” He said. 

There was another pause before Steve finally spoke, “Yeah we are good.” 

“Hey Pepper, how are those pizzas coming?” Tony called.

Pepper seemed to understand the question had nothing to really do with pizzas but she answered all the same. “About 4 minutes away.” She said. The increasingly loud click of her heels marked her approach. 

“How did everything go Pete?” he asked. Steve finally quit glaring at Tony to turn and hear Peter's reply. 

Peter and to have been waiting for that question. “Oh my gosh it was incredible! Everyone was so nice and so many people wanted pictures. I couldn't believe how many kids were dressed up as me. They all had to make their costumes because no company is making them but there were still so many and I signed so many autographs. It was the best. There was a couple I saved once when their building was on fire. And there was a little boy who wanted to be just like me. Oh and a little girl who said I helped her get over her fear of spiders and-”

The sound of the elevator opening signalling the arrival of Happy and the pizzas stopped Peter's train of thought. Everyone ate in relative silence. He could swear he could hear everyone's thoughts speeding for one reason or another but he tried to not think about it. It would probably take a few days for Shuri to get here, then who knows how long the prototype would take. No reason to worry now.

After they ate, Peter left and everyone split to their respective rooms. Steve pulled him into a hug as soon as they stepped off the elevator. He tucked his face into the crook of Steve's neck, returning the hug.

“Can I ask something that's really stupid and I know is really stupid but I just need to hear you say it's not?” Steve asked softly.

“You know that made no sense.” He grumbled back before saying, “Go ahead.”

“This isn't because you miss it somehow? Them making changes your arm and stuff?” Steve said.

_ Miss  _ them fucking with him? Taking him apart and putting him back together like the weapon they made him? He's immediate response was to push Steve but he stopped himself. Steve hadn't seen the videos, didn't know none of it had been willing. It was a fair question in its own way.

“I'm sorry Buck.” Steve started to pull back, talking his silence for something negative. He tightened his hold.

“It's ok. I was just thinking. No. I don't miss that. I will never miss that. It's best for me in the long run. You have to remember if one of the lines gets cut accidentally, we have no idea if we could get the plates off before I bled out. It will be better this way. And besides, I really want to help Gem.”

Steve nodded. “That's her name?” 

He nodded too. 

“It's cute.” Steve said leaning back enough he could see Steve's smile. “Listen, I was thinking.”

“We are all fucking doomed.” He said.

Steve shoved him. “Asshole.  _ Anyway _ . You would have to get Tony on board and probably Peter too but this could be a really good charity.”

He paused, “What do you mean?”

“Getting prosthetics to adults and kids who couldn't otherwise get them.” Steve said.

He thought for a long moment. “Would that work?” He asked uncertainly.

“I don't see why not. It definitely fills a need. Tony would have to get us some numbers for production but I think it would work.”

He nodded. “Thanks Stevie. I'll talk to Tony tomorrow.” 

Steve moved into the kitchen for a drink and the weight and stress of the day hit him in a solid wave. Before his mind had time to catch up with the decision his body was making he dropped to his knees. Immediately he knew he should have  _ said _ something to Steve first but Steve definitely saw him kneel so standing now wouldn't make sense. He remained still on his knees. 

Steve walked back out of the kitchen, a soda in his hand. Steve's fingers threaded through his hair and he let his eyes close, hoping Steve didn't misread his actions. He made himself relax, pushing away the edge of anxiety. 

“Can you talk to me Buck?” Steve's voice was quiet. Steve's hand slid down his cheek, tilting his head up. He nodded, then waited hoping Steve would ask something else since he wasn't quite sure what to say. “Do you want sex because I'm not sure either of us are…” Steve trailed off as he shook his head. “Okay. Is there anything else you need to talk to me about?” He shook his head again. Steve let out a breath and when he spoke again it was an order. “Go kneel by the couch. I'll be there in a minute.” 

He crossed the distance and knelt again. Steve moved around the kitchen then into the bedroom. When he returned, Steve was in pajama pants. He held out a pair for him to change into. “Change, if you want to then kneel again.” He followed Steve's instructions. Steve tapped his arm, “Scoot down a bit more.” Steve continued to tap until he reached the correct spot.

Steve sat behind him, his shoulders bumping Steve's thighs as Steve settled. A cup was placed in front of him. “If you get thirsty, drink. If you need to talk speak up. Otherwise be still. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” He said, only catching the sir after it had left his lips. If Steve had any feelings about it he kept it to himself. Just as anxiety started to try to form in his stomach Steve's hands buried in his hair and began to rub. 

His eyes rolled shut and a soft sigh slipped from his lips. Steve's fingers massaged his scalp. He forced his muscles to relax. Steve's hands continued to work over his scalp and down his neck. “I'm proud of you Buck.” Steve said into the quiet. “I know that decision couldn't have been easy.” Steve's thumb found a particularly sore spot on the side of his neck. He left the praise wash over him, glad not to have to respond..

By the time Steve got to his shoulders he felt both lighter than air and heavier than stone. Steve slipped a hand around his neck and to to catch his chin. Steve guided his head back as far as it would go then leaned forward. Steve looked into his eyes. “Ready for bed?” He nodded. “Drink that water then go to the bedroom and get ready to sleep.”

A roll of relief at the new order washed over him and he downed the glass. Moving to the bedroom he washed his face, brushed his teeth and stripped down to his boxers before crawling into bed. Steve appeared a few minutes later and followed suit. 

“Roll over.” Steve said, his tone still firm. Once he'd complied Steve's arm snaked around his waist and other them till his back pressed against Steve's chest. He could feel Steve's cock, half hard pressed against his ass but he also trusted Steve not to push. “Sweet dreams Buck.” Steve said, confirming his thoughts.

“Night Stevie.” He said quietly, letting his eyes close and sleep roll over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hella long chapter cause I was lazy and didn't feel like splitting it in half. Sorry for no post last week. Quite busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

November 1

He woke up slowly, his head resting on Steve's chest. The soft thump of Steve's heart lulled him back to sleep. When he woke again Steve was shifting under him. He grumbled a complaint but moved allowing Steve to sit. “Morning.” Steve said, running fingers through his hair. He hummed and closed his eyes content to be still. “So, sir huh?” Steve said, a note of amusement in his tone.

He groaned and pulled his pillow over his face. “Fuck off.” He said loud enough Steve could still hear. 

Steve lifted the pillow off his face. He glared at Steve's leg without lifting his face. “Can we talk about that?”

He shrugged, still refusing to look at Steve in the eyes.

“Bucky. Look at me.” It was an order. He ignored it. A growing sense of unease filled his gut but he was not about to look at Steve.

Steve sighed. “I'm not upset about it Buck. And I don't mind it. I just don't want you to think it's required. Not because anything I've done and definitely not because of anything Hydra's done. Okay?”

He tilted his head just enough to see Steve's face. Steve didn't look upset at least. He turned his attention back to Steve's leg. “It just slipped out. It wasn't on purpose. Normally I can stop it before. Yesterday was just a lot.”

Steve's fingers returned to his hair. “I told you Buck it is ok. I didn't mind it.” Something in Steve's tone made him ask.

“Did you  _ like _ it?” When Steve shifted he looked up. Steve was turning pink. He grinned, sitting up. “You  _ did _ like it.  _ Stevie!”  _ He said, his tone scolding.

“Fuck you.” Steve shoved him. Laughing he pushed back. Steve pushed him, pinning him to the bed. Pup bolted as he and Steve wrestled. It took longer than he would have liked to finally pin Steve down to their mattress. He sat firmly on Steve's waist, holding both his hands. They were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He took a few slow breaths to slow his heart before grinning down at Steve. 

“So Stevie likes to be called sir? I should have guessed.” While Steve turned red again he was able to feel Steve's cock take notice under him. With a grin he leaned forward to kiss Steve.

“Excuse me sirs.” Jarvis made him jump. “Mr. Barnes, Mr. Stark requests your presence in the lab.”

“Seriously? Right now?” He said at the ceiling.

“Yes.” Jarvis replied.

“Tell Tony he's being a fucking cock block.” He said pushing off Steve.

“I'm afraid I cannot provide that message at this time.” Jarvis said.

He crossed the room and began pulling clothes out of his dresser. “Seriously Buck?” Steve said from the bed.

“You know it's about my arm. I'm not making Tony work on something  _ for me _ alone.”

Steve let out a groan but stood as well. His boxers were tented out. He made a mental note as he dressed. “See you later.” He said, pressing a quick kiss into Steve's lips.

Steve's hand caught his arm, pulling him up short. “I'll be home all day. If you get overwhelmed just come up, I'll be here ok?”

He smiled and kissed Steve again. “Thanks Stevie.”

He stepped into the lab fully ready to pass on the message Jarvis had refused to relay when he saw the reason for Jarvis’ refusal. Standing next to Tony was a girl. Her back was to him. She and Tony were currently arguing about something. Tony's eyes caught his and he said something. She turned and he recognized her immediately as Shuri. 

She somehow managed to look both older and younger than she had when they had spoken before. She wore a loose t-shirt that showed a whisper of her stomach when she moved. She was almost a head shorter than Tony. She smiled when he saw her. 

He went still, suddenly aware the three of them were not alone. A woman stood against the wall, spear in hand. Her head was bald and she had tattoos on her scalp. She was not moving but her eyes were tracking his movement across the floor.

“Good of you to finally show up.” Tony said, pulling his attention back as the other man crossed the room. “You remember Shuri?” Tony's arm caught him around the shoulders, pulling him to the bench where he had been arguing with Shuri moments before.

“It's good to meet you.” He said, holding out a hand.

“You as well, Sergeant Barnes.” She said, a smile on her face. Her accent sounded even more interesting than it had over the phone. It was definitely one he'd never heard before.

“Please, call me Bucky. Thank you for coming to help out.”

“Please.” Shuri said with a grin at Tony. “When Tony actually  _ asks _ for my help I know it will be something fun. Can we get started?”

Tony shook his head. “We are waiting on--.”

The elevator opening made Tony pause. Peter stepped off the elevator. It looked like he had just rolled out of bed. His hair stood up at random angles. His shirt was wrinkled enough that he could have slept in it. “Hey Mr Stark. I got your message is everything oka…” Peter stopped right off the elevator his eyes settling on Shuri. Peter reached up and tried to straighten his hair as he crossed the lab. Peter was so focused on trying to tame his hair that he bumped into a cart of spare parts sending pieces crashing to the floor.

Shuri cringed as Peter scrambled to pick up everything that fell. Peter straightened moving to join them. “Hi. I'm Peter.” He said, offering his hand and obviously trying to ignore the fact he was bright red.

Shuri giggled and took his hand. “Shuri. Nice to meet you. Are you always this clumsy?”

“I. Umm. I just--”

“I'm  _ joking. _ ” Shuri said, shoving Peter's shoulder. Peter's whole body visibly relaxed. “Seriously can we get started now?” Shuri asked.

The woman who stood against the wall shifted. Peter froze for a moment then he spun arm out ready to fight the unseen threat. Seeing the woman Peter hesitated. “Who is that?” He asked, uncertainty laced in his tone.

“That is Okoye.” Shuri said. “She is head of the Dora Milaje.” He could see Shuri smiling, though Peter couldn't.

“The Dora Magi?” Peter said, confused. Shuri giggled again.

“Dora Milaje.” Tony corrected with an ease that suggested practice. “The royal guard of Wakanda. Shuri is the princess of Wakanda. Yes we can start.” Peter seemed rooted to the spot. Tony stepped around him. “Bucky can you?” Tony gestured to a chair and he sat. “The end result we are after is to remove this arm completely and replace it with one made of vibranium and is powered by arc tech. The problem is going to be removing the current arm and getting the new arm to interface correctly.”

Peter turned as Tony spoke and seemed to be watching Shuri now with obvious curiosity. Tony passed him the kit for his arm so he set the plates in maintenance to begin to remove them.

“Are you able to do that completely by thought?” Shuri asked, her eyes intent on his arm. 

“Yeah.” He said. Instead of taking off the plates he ran it through a complete range of motion test so she could see how the plates moved. 

“Hydra came up with this?” She asked Tony. He didn't hear a reply and could only assume Tony nodded. “How long ago?” 

His stomach rolled. The first major mission he had done with this final version was killing Howard. “Before 1991. I am not sure the exact year.” When she didn't have any further questions he began removing the plates. “May I?” She asked, holding a hand out for the plate when he removed the first. He held it out. “This is new though?” She asked Tony showing the mesh on the underside of the plate.

“Yeah. That's a month or so old. Peter actually came up with that.”

Shuri looked at Peter in surprise. “ _ Really?” _ She said, her tone softening.

“I. Well. I just, Bucky couldn't feel anything over the backs of the plates so I created a silicone to coat the plate. It has imbedded sensors connected by nanoribbons for strength. The electrical signal they create provides feedback to sensation coming through the plate.”

Shuri nodded. “Wouldn't the plate dampen the ability to feel much?”

“I actually originally designed it to be set about 3 millimeters under the top of the plate but at the time…” Peter tapered off.

“I didn't want to make that kind of change.” He finished for him. 

He turned to let Shuri see better as he removed each plate. She leaned close watching as each plate came off. When he was done she looked at Tony. “Do you have a medical table? It might be easier to see that way.”

Tony moved where he could see the other man's face. “You good with that Buck?” He nodded. They moved across the lab to the spot where Tony had added the mesh a few weeks before. He laid down and settled his arm on the arm rest. 

“May I?” Shuri asked again. He nodded and she leaned over his arm. The tips of her delicate fingers carefully moved and positioned his arm. He couldn't be sure if Tony warned her about the nerves and red lines or if she was smart enough to recognize them for what they were but she avoided touching them. 

The question was answered after about 10 minutes when Shuri leaned back and indicated the red line. “So this is attached directly to the axillary artery?” Tony nodded. “If it is severed, is there a way to stop the blood flow?”

“Take the plates off and try to stop the bleeding quickly.” He said with a shrug. 

Shuri's expression told him she didn't like that answer. “Arc tech will power the new arm?” She asked. Tony nodded. “So, I think the best option is to completely cap off the arm from here up.” She held her hand about 3 inches past where the bloodline entered his arm. “If we were at my lab,” she cast a look of feigned disdain around her, “I could speed up the vascular remodeling and remove the tube completely. Here it might be best to use a small amount of tubing to redirect blood flow.”

“I would rather have the tube out if it's at all possible.” He said quietly. 

Shuri gave another look around. “I might be able to do something. 

“He does have enhanced healing as well.” Tony said.

Shuri turned to Peter. “If what you made is silicone will it be able to stand to to being cast in vibranium?”

“Not currently no. I've been working on a different formula in my spare time. With some modifications to the formula it shouldn't be too difficult.” Peter ran a hand through his hair, which still stuck up. “I'll have to go grab my notebook.”

“There is one final wrinkle to consider.” Both kids looked up at Tony. “This isn't the only arm we have to make.” Shuri's eyes turned to his right arm, as though she could have somehow missed it being metal as well. When Tony was quiet for several moments he realized he was expected to explain.

“I want to use this as a way to test a prosthetic for the general public so we can donate them to people who can't afford them. Eventually I'd like it to be a charity.” 

“That's an awesome idea Bucky!” Peter said, smiling. 

“In America if you cannot afford a prosthetic you cannot have one?” Shuri asked disbelievingly. Her eyes flickered to the woman who stood on the wall and they exchanged a look.

“I need to go make a phone call.” Tony said, stepping across the room and over to the elevator.

Shuri leaned back in to look at something in his arm. “Okoye, I need you to get something from my lab.”

“I am not leaving.” Okoye answered. Her accent seemed thicker than Shuri's. 

Shuri turned to the other woman, squaring her shoulders. “I am perfectly capable of handling myself.” 

“No, Shuri.” The woman said, her tone set.

“I faced Killmonger alone. This building is the safest in America. I will be safe without a guard.”

Peter held his eyes and mouthed  _ Killmonger _ ? He shrugged.

“You forgot where Killmonger came from.” Okoye said.

When Shuri replied it was no longer English. Shuri argued with increasing intensity with the other woman. Okoye's replies remained calm and even in spite of frequently being drowned out by Shuri's loud protests.

Tony stepped out of the elevator and Shuri's eyes snapped to him. “Tell her how secure we are here.” She demanded. 

Tony held up both hands in a calming gesture. “It's the most secure in the U.S. I can't speak for other places but-”

“See?!” Shuri snapped at Okoye.

Tony carefully navigated past the arguing and came to stand next to Peter. “What the fuck did I miss?” Tony asked, looking between him and Peter.

“Shuri wants Okoye to get something from her lab but Okoye won't leave.” Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Shuri,” Tony said. Shuri's head snapped to look at him, eyes thin with anger. “If I get you the supplies could you rebuild whatever you needed here so Okoye didn't have to leave?”

This was apparently the wrong question. “I don't need minded! I am not a child!” She hissed at Tony.

“You are acting like one.” Okoye said, returning to English. Shuri looked back at Okoye visibly bristling. 

She turned to look at Peter instead. “Come.” Shuri told him. “Explain the modifications needed for the silicone.” She moved back into the lab.

Peter's eyes went wide for a moment but he followed anyway. Tony looked between him and Okoye without saying anything. He couldn't see Okoye over his shoulder but based on Tony's expression she had at least smiled.

By the time he stood and followed Tony, Peter and Shuri were bent over a workbench. Peter had pulled up a piece of paper and pencil and was writing out that he could remember of the formula. Shuri leaned in close enough their shoulders bumped together as Peter wrote. Whatever Peter was writing on the paper might as well have been Chinese for how well he could understand.  _ No. _ He thought. He could read at least some Chinese.

Shuri however had no problem making it out. She took the pencil to make a few notes of her own. Or rather she took Peter's whole hand and extracted the pencil from his fingers. Peter went bright red and didn't even look at what she was writing. He smirked. He knew that expression.

Tony approached, something familiar glowing in his hand. “Get everything figured out?” He asked Shuri, his voice calm and quiet like he was worried she'd shout again.

Instead she smiled. “Since Okoye will not leave, someone else will bring it. The nanites will allow for vascular remodeling without needing to keep the tubing.” Her eyes met his.

“Thank you.” He said and she smiled.

Tony held out the reactor. “So this is only a prototype but you both need to get familiar with it since we will be working with reactors pretty close the next few days.”

Peter's eyes went wide. “That's. That's an arc reactor. Like the one that powers your suit!” Shuri didn't react outwardly but he could clearly see her interested as she took the reactor gingerly from Tony's hands. She turned it over, frowning as she focused.

Tony leaned across the table. “We are going to go really high level into how this works for now.” He recognized that tone. Tony wasn't comfortable but he was pretending to be. “So, electrons project out from the inner core while gamma rays project in from the outer ring. The deficit of electrons creates a massive electrostatic potential. The core collects lower energy electrons and ejects them towards the rim of the device producing the voltage.” Tony paused but both Shuri and Peter were staring in awe so he continued. “The initial reaction uses an electric arc to accelerate particles in the outer ring to high velocity. The inner core begins emitting high energy electrons due to radioactive decay. The electrons are directed by magnetic fields into the outer ring. As a result the positive charge in the core slows the decay as the electrons externally replenish. High energy electrons collide with high energy ions causing electron capture and gamma ray emission. The gamma rays reach the core and catalyze more electrons bringing it to self sustaining. The lower the required power the slower the decay. The core does slowly decay, but with average usage in this situation, it should reasonably self maintain for several thousand years without a new core being required.”

Tony fell quiet. Shuri and Peter both looked between him and the reactor. Shuri turned it in her hands again finger touching certain parts in turn as if she was identifying the parts Tony had mentioned.

“Peter.” Tony finally broke the silence. “Go get your notebook and some clothes for the next week.”

Peter blinked for moment, “clothes?” He finally managed.

“I have spoken to May and your school. You are working on the internship this week.”

Peter's eyes lit up. “No way! Really?” When Tony just nodded Peter jumped up. “Back in a few.” Peter darted to the elevator. 

“Leave your stuff on floor 19 when you get back!” Tony called after him. 

Tony pulled both the prototype and a large piece of paper over to the bench in front of Shuri. 

By the time Peter returned, notebook in hand Tony had drawn his shoulder on the paper. He had never thought about it but Tony was just as much an artist as Steve. Most of his drawings were of projects not art but all the same Tony was really good at it. 

Peter sat at the bench and Tony promoted Shuri. “Tell him what we were talking about with the nanites. But first, what kind of pizza do you two want?” He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly noon.

“Oh, I'm ok with anything.” Peter said quickly.

“I know you can eat a whole pizza yourself. I'm buying, come on orders.”

“Bacon and avocado.” Shuri said.

“Fre sha voca do.” Peter mumbled. Shuri looked at Peter and his eyes went wide a moment then they both collapsed into fits of giggles. 

He looked at Tony, wondering if he missed some part of the joke but Tony looked just as lost. Peter and Shuri started to calm down but then making eyes contact began laughing again. “Going to let us in on the joke?” Tony asked.

“V-vine.” Was all Peter managed to force out through the laughter.

He caught Tony look at Okoye and roll his eyes. The woman smiled. Finally, wiping away tears Peter said, “Jus…just pepperoni for me Mr. Mr. Stark.” Tony rolled his eyes again before looking at him. 

“Pepperoni is fine for me too.” He told Tony who nodded and moved over to Okoye.

“Why do you call him Mr. Stark?” Shuri asked Peter, her voice quiet.

Peter looked surprised. “I mean, just out of respect I guess?” 

Shuri smiled. “We are all equal here in our way. Science makes us equals.”

Peter considered this for a moment but didn't answer.

“So I can program the nanites,” Shuri said, apparently not planning to wait on a reply, “to speed the vascular remodeling so that we can remove the tube. Once the remodeling is completely stabilized and self sufficient the nanites will be reabsorbed into the bloodstream.”

Tony walked back over to stand next to the bench. “You said speed up.” Peter said, “how long will it take them?”

“For such a small gap? Ten seconds at most.”

“So for those ten seconds he's just bleeding everywhere?” Peter asked. 

“No. We can cut off the blood circulation higher in the arm for those few seconds then, when the nanites have stabilized, resume the blood flow.” Peter nodded.

“I guess lack of blood really can't damage any tissue.” Peter's eyes tracked over his left arm. “Could we do that early then finish with everything else another day?”

“That will be for Bucky to decide.” Shuri's eyes met his. “Once the blood into his arm stops it will be effectively useless. Ideally we will cap it at least a day or two early. Then we can easily verify the new arm is working properly and make any final adjustments but it could mean several days with only one arm.”

His stomach rolled violently but when he spoke his voice sounded calm. “I am trusting the three of you. Whatever is best.”

The rest of the day was spent with the three of them pouring over the drawing Tony had started. Occasionally they would break from the drawing to come look at the way his arm connected. Shuri requested permission each time and by the third time hearing her say it, Peter did the same when he checked something. 

By seven that night he couldn't stay sitting any longer. He excused himself and barely managed not to run to the elevator. As he rose through the building the walls of the elevator felt tighter and tighter, as if they moved in, strangling his air. When the door open he half ran half fell into the apartment. “Buck!” Steve moved to him. “Hey. Hey. Stay with me pal. It's a panic attack. You're safe.” He was very distantly aware he was shaking. Steve's voice pushed through the fog of his mind. “Five things you can see.”

He struggled to see the apartment. Everything was blurry. Giving up he looked at Steve. “Eyes, nose, mouth, hair, ears.” Steve's lips turned up in a smile

“Touch?” Steve promoted.

“Shoulders, shirt, back, neck.”

“Hear?

“City, heartbeat, your voice.”

“Good. Smell?” 

“Your soap, my soap.”

“One more thing you can see?”

“You.” He said

Steve smiled again. “Good. Come sit with me on the couch?”

He nodded. Steve stepped back and gently wiped his cheeks. His fingers came back wet. Reaching up he touched his face. Had he been crying? Steve was guiding him to the couch. Once Steve was sitting he stretched out, arms wrapped around Steve's stomach. Steve's fingers played in his hair and rubbed his scalp.

Silence stretched. He wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours passing but he was glad for every moment. “You sure about all this Buck?” Steve spoke into the quiet. 

He nodded against Steve's stomach. He was sure. It was terrifying but he wanted it. More than that he wanted to help the little girl. Steve pressed a kiss into the top of his head and turned on the Twilight Zone. He rolled over and leaned back on Steve so they could watch the show together.

November 2

He was awake. He kept his eyes closed, stayed still. He had gone unconscious. He'd passed out while they took him apart and put him back together, a weapon to be field stripped and rebuilt with newer shinier parts. If he was still and quiet they wouldn't know he was awake. But his heart pounded in his chest. Soon their machines would alert them, they would know and they would return to cut him open again. 

As he laid still no one came. The only sound in the room was the slow heavy breathing of someone else.  _ Steve.  _ In an instant memories flooded back. Not Hydra headquarters. Stark tower, New York. Safe.

He sat up slowly, pushing a hand through this hair. It was getting long he noticed. When he'd cut it last had been just above his shoulders, now it hung several inches down his back. He considered cutting it but quickly pushed away the thought away. Steve seemed to like to brush through in the longer it got.

He slipped out of bed. “Buck?” Steve's sleep thickened voice cut the quiet. 

“Just going to the lab for awhile. Go back to sleep Stevie.” Steve hummed but rolled over letting him go without question. 

He stepped off the elevator to find Tony sitting alone at one of the work benches, a beer next to him. “Hey, figured you'd come down tonight at some point.” Tony said without looking up.

“Someday you're gonna say the wrong thing to the wrong person and get your ass in trouble.” He said easily weaving through the tables. “Why'd you figured I'd come?” 

Tony stood and opened his arms in invitation. He stepped into the hug, returning it uncertainly. “Steve said you had a rough time after after you left.” 

_ Of course he had. _ He let himself relax into Tony's hug. Tony, far more than Steve, knew what he'd suffered through with his arm during the early days at Hydra. He sat, watching Tony return to work. Tony had redrawn his shoulder on a blank sheet. It sat next to the original he, Peter and Shuri had all been working on. Tony, in his small neat writing, was carefully copying all the scribbled snips of thought the three of them had scrawled across the paper through the course of the day over into the new paper in columns.

“You really are an amazing artist, Tony.” He said, watching the other man work. 

Tony stopped mid word to turn and look at him incredulously. Tony's eyes held his for a moment as if searching for the punchline of a joke he didn't fully understand. “I'm not an artist.” He finally said dismissively.

“Like fuck you aren't! What do you call that?” He gestured to the drawing.

“Blueprints aren't art. They are instructions.”

“Fuck you. That's art and you're amazing at it.”

Tony didn't protest or turn to look at him. Silence spread, first tense then slowly easing. “The nanites should arrive overnight.” Tony said quietly, as he drew a slash through the final sentence on the old picture and moved it aside. He pulled the new picture into the center of the table. “She said she shouldn't have any problem programming them in a few hours. Then if we can solve the nerve endings we could have the cap on by dinner if you wanted.”

His stomach rolled but he tried to push that away. “I'm not sure if getting it quicker is better or worse.” He said honestly.

Tony's hand squeezed his right shoulder. “You still want to do this? No one is going to think anything bad if you bow out.”

He smiled and leaned over his shoulder bumped Tony's. “It's just… You've seen the tapes.” He said quietly. Memories of sitting tucked in his cell, the useless stump of his left arm wedged in the corner 

“Yeah. I have.” Tony's voice was quiet. “And that's why I said no one will think anything of it if you change your mind.”

“No. I don't want to but I need to. It's better for me and I can get through it so we can use the tech to help others too.” He licked his lips before speaking again. “Can you walk me through it? Putting the cap on? Step by step?”

Tony nodded. “This conversation needs the couch and another beer first.” He stood along with Tony and sat on the couch. Tony returned with two beers and sat. He tucked against Tony's smaller form. He took a gulp of the beer. Even if he couldn't get drunk the taste was familiar and comforting.

When Tony began speaking his tone was neutral, almost clinical. He wondered only a moment it that should be as comforting as it was. He forced the thought away to listen. “First we will deaden the nerve where it enters your shoulder so you shouldn't feel anything through it. We will cut the nerve so only a small section is left. Then the nanites will begin guiding and accelerating the vascular remapping. Once that is done we will stop blood flow to the area and cut and remove the tube. The nanites will complete the remapping and we will restore blood flow and verify its working properly. From there we will take the arm off, leaving just the anchor point which is where I will connect the cap. If we stick with the current idea, the nerve will link directly into a network of nanoribbons to allow for feeling in the shoulder and then eventually in the arm as well.”

“So it will feel like it does now?” He wasn't sure he kept the disappointment out of his voice. While he was grateful to Peter for his help, sensation between the nerves felt like static at best.

“Not exactly.” Tony said. “This will be a millimeter under the surface of the metal so you should get a much more complete range of sensation. It should feel pretty close to what you feel now in your right arm.” He nodded and Tony continued. “Once it's connected to the nerve I will lock it in using the past anchor point.”

“What will it look like?” He asked.

“I actually have,” Tony sat up slowly giving him time to move, “a prototype. I can't guarantee it will look anything like the final idea but you can see if you want?” He nodded. Tony moved across the lab. “I kept it tucked away in case it was too much.”

Tony returned a black metal in his hand. He took the prototype, turning it over in his hands. The cap was roughly shaped how he remembered the stump of his arm looked prior the recent arm. Tony sat next to him again. “We made some modifications to how it fits against the skin. I'm not sure if you can feel it but when you were lifting heavier objects it was tearing the skin under the metal. This should stop that happening.”

He nodded. “So I won't have any motion until the arm gets finished in a few days?”

“I mean.” Tony moved just his shoulder forward and backwards then up and down. “That would be about it.” He nodded. The longer he looked at the prototype the harder his heart began to pound. He passed it back to Tony. Tony rubbed his back and he dropped back against Tony's side.

“You better pick it up Tony.” He said quietly. “Those kids are going to outpace you.”

Tony scoffed. “What do you mean going to? They already have by miles. Honestly it makes me happy to see it though, to work with them.”

“I was surprised, you telling them how the reactor worked.” He said. 

Tony was quiet a moment before answering. “I didn't want to but they are going to be working pretty closely with one the next few days so it only made sense that they at least have a functional knowledge. It's not enough information to build one themselves or to destroy one but it's enough they won't get hurt mishandling it.”

“Tony? Can I ask you something and if you don't want to answer you can just tell me to fuck off?”

Tony shrugged, the movement jostling him where he leaned on Tony.

“Why do you hate people knowing how it works? The reactor in your chest I mean?”

“It is keeping me alive.” Tony said quietly.

He nodded, keeping himself from reacting outwardly. He'd guessed it was something like that but hadn't expected Tony to admit it. After Pepper had mentioned shrapnel in Tony's chest he had wondered how the two were linked. “That's why mine doesn't have the wire in the back like yours.” Tony's whole body went rigid. “Sorry.” He said quickly. “Does it hurt?” He asked quietly.

“It doesn't feel great.” Tony's voice was clipped like forcing out the words was difficult. “Can we talk about something else?”

He didn't miss the edge of panic in Tony's voice. “You aren't letting those kids shack up together are you?” He asked.

Tony snorted. “Did you see how they were acting? I'd prefer to avoid international incident.” Tony said. “Hasn't stopped then from being on the same floor.” Tony grabbed a tablet. “J?” Video feed of Shuri and Peter sitting on the couch laughing pulled up. “If they go into a bedroom or start anything anywhere J will let me know so I can go break it up. I remember being that age.”

He laughed. “I do too.”

“Oh come on, surely in the dark ages everyone just sat around and read. In bed by dark right?”

“Ha ha ha. Fuck you.” He said before laughing. “Teens had plenty of sex.  _ I _ had plenty of sex at sixteen.”

“Plenty? So what once? Twice? Ever?” Tony was still laughing. 

“Fuck off. Try once or twice a night as often as I wanted.”

“I wasn't counting Steve.” Tony said 

He smirked. “I wasn't either. You're welcome for paving the way for youngins like you to have fun.” He said, shoving Tony who laughed. 

“Don't ever call me a youngin again.” Tony said, but his voice held no heat. They both fell quiet.

His eyes dropped back to the cap resting on the floor near Tony's feet. “So you really think it will be tomorrow? Or, I guess today now?”

Tony shrugged. “I've never seen Shuri program nanites. Plus Peter and I have some work to do on the mesh too so it might not be today. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Do you need to get some rest?” He asked. Tony shrugged. “Go. Get some sleep.” He stood, pulling Tony up too. “I need you awake and not fucking up tomo-” His eyes settled on the screen of the tablet. Peter had an arm around Shuri who appeared to be near tears.

“What?” Tony turned to follow his gaze and hesitated. “J? Without personal information, what are they discussing?”

“Loss, sir.” Jarvis said after a moment. Tony nodded. 

“They have had a rough time, both of them. They are strong.”

He nodded. “ _ Bed. _ ” He pushed Tony towards the elevator. Once back in his apartment he spoke into the quiet. “Jarvis if he's not sleeping you tell me. And tell him I told you to watch.”

“Of course, sir.” Jarvis said, sounding amused. He slipped down the hall and back into the bedroom. Stripping he curled up in bed. Every time his eyes closed he could hear Tony's voice describing each step, see the black medal of the cap. The sun was drifting through the curtains when sleep finally caught him.

By the time he made it down to the shop the next morning Tony and Peter were bent over a paper working. A few of the work benches had been pushed away to make room for equipment he'd never seen before. In the middle of all the new equipment was Shuri. She noticed him first. “Oh good you are awake.” 

A shiver of ice ran up his spine as he remembered Zola saying the same thing but he pushed it away. Zola was long dead as was the computer that held his mind. “Yeah sorry. Late start.”

“I need a blood sample.” Shuri said, her eyes back on the equipment. He definitely hesitated then but forced himself to continue to move forward. He glanced over at Peter and Tony. Peter was still intensely focused on the paper but he was confident Tony saw him falter.

“Okay.” He said uncertainly. As he moved around the new equipment he saw several that were similar to what Tony used. 

“Be still.” She told him. He stopped, his eyes moving across the space. Several of Jarvis’ projections of his arm glowed familiar blue around where Shuri had been working but the projection she'd been working on was gold. Rather than floating, as the ones Jarvis made did, Shuri's seem to originate from a round object set into the bench of her newly created work space.

“Tell me when you're going to draw blood.” He said as she approached. “I don't do well with blood.” The look of surprise was clear on her face but she didn't comment. She held out her wrist and a soft gold glow similar to the projection shined through her bracelet. Not a bracelet he realized quickly. A circle created from the same round object that was set into the work bench. She guided him through several positions, scanning his arm each time.

“Kimoyo beads.” Shuri said. “Each one has a different function.” he looked at the beads on her wrist. Each was black with a different white symbol. She turned her hand over, the beads he noticed didn't move. He also noticed there was no visible string holding the beads. “This one,” Shuri touched the bead that rested against her pulse, “Is given at birth and if the only bead to stay your whole life. It constantly monitors and provides vital health information.” He heard Peter moving close and falling still just outside the circle of Shuri's tech.

“You know Peter, I'm sure Shuri wouldn't bite if you wanted to come close enough to see what she was talking about.” He said, turning if only for the benefit of watching Peter's ears go red at being discovered.

Peter walked sheepishly around the new equipment to come stand next to him. Shuri smiled before continuing. “After that different beads can be added as needed.” She held her palm up and a bead on the left side of her wrist rolled into her palm and a golden projecting of his arm glowed softly. 

“How does it move like that?” Peter asked, watching the bead. 

“It is programmed to respond to mental commands.” Shuri said. The bead rolled back and another rolled to her palm and a video feed began. It took him several moments to recognize this must be Wakanda. It showed a busy market street. People in vibrant clothes shopped and walked through the market. It rolled back and Shuri turned her hand sideways and began to make fast movements with her hand. A moment later Peter frowned. Peter reached into his pocket and turned his phone to show a text from Shuri who smiled. “There are beads for protection, to stabilize during times of injury. Then there are specific beads for industry like,” she held up the bead and scanned his arm again, “like this.” She smiled easily. 

He noticed through her description Tony did not move or turn to listen. He must have already had a chance to learn about the beads.

“They are vibranium?” Peter asked. He reached his hand out uncertainly to touch the scanning bead. 

“Yes.” Shuri said, watching him. “I need that sample. Be still.” She told him. She touched one of the beads to the back of his hand. He felt a prick but never actually saw any blood. Shuri smiled, “thank you.” She moved back to her station. She touched one of the beads to another divot in the station. A moment later the blue projections were replaced with gold. Peter moved back towards Tony but he remained, watching Shuri manipulate the scans. 

“Shuri? How will you be getting the current cap off?” He asked, not sure he wanted the answer.

“We will remove the current arm through the anchor. Then the nanites will assist with removal of scar tissue and the bonds they created to lock it in place.” She turned her hand and a scan appeared. “This is the texture on the back of the current cap. See these holes? They left those and then shredded the skin before attaching this cap. As it healed the skin went into the holes and helped lock this into place. The nanites,” red began to flood the scan, “will run between the plate and your skin and break the skin and scar tissue painlessly so it can come off.”

It didn't sound painless. “And the nanites will help the new one fit better?”

“Yes.” 

He nodded but didn't press for more. He walked across the lab and pulled up his normal chair next to Tony. He and Peter were still pouring over a paper. A chemical formula had been written and scratched out and written again. Red, blue, black, and green ink covered the page as different parts were changed and written again. It made no sense to him but he didn't try to think on it. Dropping into the chair he let his head lull back and pushed the chair up on two legs. He listened to Tony and Peter and occasionally Shuri speak but otherwise forced himself to relax letting time float away from him.

Movement made him blink. Shuri had crossed the room and was now leaning over the paper too. She and Peter were arguing, “single crystalline silicon strain gauges on soft elastomer exhibit a linear relationship-” Peter said but Shuri cut across him.

He didn't try to listen or understand her reply. His eyes closed again. When he heard movement he opened his eyes again. Tony was standing, stretching. Shuri and Peter moved away from the table. Peter went to a cabinet, pulling out glass vials. He followed Tony over to the small kitchen. “Did they get it figured out?” He asked Tony as the man grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He noticed over Tony's shoulder the normal supply of alcohol in the fridge was missing, replaced with soda and water. He nudged past Tony to grab a soda.

“Seems to. Shuri found a way to use vibranium to increase the sensitivity of the feeling through the arm. She has a lot more information about vibranium than I do but she seems confident.”

He nodded. “Still looking like today?” He said uncertainly.

Tony's eyes held his for a moment before answering. “Probably, if you are ok with it. And if Cap can be here.”

“No. No Steve.” 

Tony looked as startled as he felt at the knee jerk reply. Tony hesitated for a long moment before speaking, “Umm. So you don't want Steve down here while we are doing all this?”

“No.” He said. He was certain of that part.

Tony raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. When he don't speak Tony said “fine but you have to tell Steve, cause you know he will want to be here.” Tony crossed the lab to settle back at the workbench.

He finished the can before crossing the lab to the elevator. Steve was in the kitchen cooking when he stepped into the apartment. “Hey Buck!” Steve said sounding surprised. “Figured you'd be down there all day.”

“Hey Stevie. Can we talk about them putting the cap on?” Steve turned, a look of concern flashed on his face before a calmness settled.

“Sure Buck. Everything ok?” Steve dried his hands on a dish towel then came to stand with him in the living room. 

“Yeah. I just, I don't want you to be there.” He said in a rush. Steve didn't manage to wipe the concern from his face that time.

“Oh. Okay. Can I ask why?” Steve said. Steve's tone was tight, he was hurt.

Closing his eyes he licked his lips before meeting Steve's eyes. He could practically see the anxiety running higher and higher in the other man's eyes. He forced himself to speak. “You. I.” He stopped, licked his lips and tried again. “You never saw. Before. I.” He wasn't making sense. He knew he wasn't. Steve's brows were knit as he struggled to find meaning in the disjointed nothing he was managing to force out. 

“Bucky.” Steve said hesitantly. “If my being there makes you uncomfortable for this it's ok you can tell me.”

“It's not that.” He said.

“Okay. I guess I'm not understanding. Can we sit? You can you think for a minute?” Steve offered. He nodded. Steve moved to his normal spot on the couch. He'd fully expected to sit on the other side of the couch, maybe even the other couch altogether but he found himself dropping against Steve's side. Steve's arm wrapped around him and he let his eyes close. Before he had a chance to stop them tears were pouring over his cheeks. Steve took the sudden change better than he did, pulling him closer and rubbing his back.

He rubbed his eyes. “Sorry Steve.” He said weakly several minutes later. “I don't know where that came from.” 

Steve continued to rub his back. “It's ok Buck. There is a lot of heavy stuff going on. Think you can tell me why you don't want me there?”

He nodded. He sniffed and wiped his nose before speaking. “You've never seen me without my arm.” 

Steve's fingers moved from his back to the back of his skull, beginning to rub at the knot that the weight of his arm caused. “You're right. I haven't. But I have seen the scans and talked to Tony so I have a pretty good idea of what's there.” The idea Steve might have even a vague knowledge of the stump of his arm stomach rolled but he stayed quiet.“But even if I was there when they changed the cap, I still wouldn't feel any less if you. I wouldn't pity you. You are the strongest person I know. I have loved you since you pulled me up off my ass a million times as a kid and I still love you now. That's not going anywhere no matter what.”

A warmth spread through his chest. “I love you too Stevie.” He said quietly. It still made his heart leap to say. When they were young anyone hearing them say that could result in at minimum getting locked in a crazy house so the expression had been used only a few times and far between. He remembered whispering it in the still and dark of their bedroom, seeing Steve smile in the failing light. They didn't have to be so careful now. “I just hate it.” He said quietly. 

“I know Buck.” Steve squeezed his shoulders.

“You can be there.” He said.

“I would love to Buck but I want to make sure you know I'm not trying to make you?” He nodded. He didn't like the idea of Steve seeing but if he already knew he'd rather have the support. Steve pressed a kiss into his temple. He turned catching Steve's lips and pulling him in for a kiss. Steve's fingers buried in his hair, holding him.

When they broke apart Steve stood and finished making lunch. He returned from the kitchen with two plates. They ate in silence. “Are they still thinking it will be tonight?” Steve asked, clearing the plates away.

“Exactly how much do you and Tony talk?” He asked. “First Tony knows about last night now you know about the timeline. I think you are secretly best friends you just don't want to tell me.” Steve rolled his eyes but smiled. “Yeah tonight if they can get everything ready.”

Steve squeezed his hand. “Let me know.” He nodded.

He stepped into the elevator but when the doors closed the elevator didn't move. After several moments he glared up at the ceiling. “What the fuck J?”

“Would you like to return to the lab with Mr. Parker and Ms. Shuri or would you like to visit Mr. Stark?” Jarvis asked with a tone of amusement, as if he'd been simply waiting for him to snap.

“What floor is Tony on?” He asked.

“Subfloor three.” 

“Fucking helpful. Fine, take me to subfloor three.”

When he stepped off the elevator it was into a room he'd never been in. A wave of heat hit him as he stepped into the floor. Immediately following was a thick heavy smell that burned his nose and made him want to cough. After a few breaths he recognized a very familiar smell mixed in the acrid air. Something smelled like Steve's shield.

The room was roughly as big as the lab but the benches were much more spread. Most of a wall was taken up by massive forges, one of which glowed with a white hot flame. The flickering light of the fire cast shadows over the massive machines that filled large sections of the rest of the room. While the machines in the lab looked delicate and foreign the machines in this room looked heavy and familiar. He moved to the closest machine and let his hand rest against it. 

The cool metal brought back fuzzy distant memories of a factory he'd seen as a child. Heavy machines belched thick black smoke and fire like dragons. A steady chorus of creaking and banging had filled the building as rusty conveyor belt groaned under the weight of the objects they moved. 

He blinked, a loud clang pulling him out of his memories. Tony stood working over something that was glowing bright blue. With each hit blue and white sparks jumped. The rhythm stopped and Tony moved the metal back into the forge. “Hey. How'd the talk go?” Tony asked easily as he approached, wiping sweat off his forehead. Tony turned the metal in the heat with a hook before pulling it out and moving it back to something heavy set into the floor..

“It went ok.” He said, deciding to not mention the random complete breakdown. Tony returned to hammering the metal. “Steve's going to come tonight.”

He noticed the tiniest break in rhythm at those words but otherwise Tony didn't comment into the metal was back in the fire. “And you are sure you're ok with it? Because earlier you weren't.” His eyes dropped to what he'd expected to be an anvil between them. While it looked heavy and black like an anvil but this was shaped like what remembered he the stump of his arm to look like without anything covering it. It made sense of course, but it didn't stop the wave of sickness that rolled over him. He forced himself to focus on Tony's question.

“I don't like him seeing me like that. The rest of you, well maybe not Shuri but you've seen the videos. You know.” 

Tony pulled the piece back out of the fire. “But you're ok now with him seeing you like that?” Tony asked, every other word punctuated as he hammered the metal.

“Yeah. It will be ok.” He said with a confidence he didn't begin to personally feel. 

Tony nodded. He picked up the metal piece in a pair of smithing tongs and turned it over a few times before lowering the metal onto a large bin of liquid. It hissed loudly. When Tony removed it the blue was gone, it was darker now, almost black. Tony set it on a bench. He could clearly see it was the final design for the cap. His stomach rolled slightly but he made himself look at it. 

Tony had done a good job getting it mostly smoothed to shape. He moved closer to look at it. Heat still rolled off it as he got close. It was slightly more round than he remembered the current one being. As much as he hated the idea of the cap he couldn't deny it looked really nice.

“We need to do a strength test on your current arm before we do anything else.” Tony said. “I'm going to go shower if you want to head downstairs. Or you are welcome to come up and join me.” Tony winked. He wasn't sure the exact face he made but judging by Tony laughing so hard he almost fell over it must have been hilarious. When Tony finally composed himself he said, “I'm kidding. You are welcome to come up though instead of hanging out with the kids.” He considered it a moment before gesturing for Tony to lead the way. He'd only been in the penthouse once and it had only been brief. It would be interesting to actually get more than a quick glance.

It was strange stepping off the elevator into Tony's apartment rather than his own. “Make yourself comfortable.” Tony said easily as he walked down the hall to go shower. Tony's space was still opposite of Steve's in many ways. Some of the art appeared to have changed but otherwise the apartment was still all sleek lines and hard surfaces. It was still clean to the point you had to look to find evidence anyone lived here. He wondered if Pepper did. Tony had mentioned they didn't sleep in the same bed. Did they sleep on the same floor?

He wandered across the tile, looking closer at some of the art. There was a marble sculpture in one corner he was certain Steve would love. He touched it, the cool stone felt nice under his hand. He moved to look out the windows. 

“Will ten work? I have a meeting at... Yeah. Okay. And will… See you then.” Pepper stepped off the elevator, hanging up her phone. “Oh! Bucky. Is everything ok?” She was dressed in business clothes, her hair pulled up out of her face. She was carrying a stack of folders with her tablet on top.

“Yeah. Sorry to surprise you. Tony is just taking a shower and said I could hang out up here instead of with the kids.”

The worry ebbed away from her eyes. “Of course. You are always welcome to come up. Tony told me about your arm. Is that today?” She moved into the apartment and dropped the paper on the table.

“Most likely yea.” He said and she nodded.

“Mind if I work?” She asked and he shook his head. 

She spread the files out and settled in to work. It was another five minutes before he heard Tony moving down the hallway. “Hey Pep.” He said with a smile as he came around the corner. His hair stuck up randomly from where he'd dried it with a towel. “How did the meeting go with…” Tony trailed off making a vague hand gesture. Pepper raised an eyebrow but was otherwise silent. When Tony realized she wasn't going to fill in the blank he'd left in his sentence he continued. “The, the umm.”

Pepper sighed and stood. “The CEO and CFO of the-”

“The company we are acquiring. Clean electric something?” Tony cut in.

“Yes the meeting I asked you to attend. The one you were ‘getting in the elevator right now to come to?” Tony's eyes went wide but Pepper didn't look mad.

“Shit babe I was and then something happened in the lab and I just completely-”

“It's fine Tony.” She said, moving to him and reaching up to straighten his hair. “You were working with the forge?”

“Do I still stink?” He asked turning his arms over.

“No but you still suck at getting your face clean.” She said tapping a small smear of black in his cheek. Tony swore and moved to clean the smudge. “Are you planning to come to bed tonight?” She asked.

“I don't know. If the kids see me go to bed they might somehow guess I'm not the same age as they are. Can't give teens and opening or they might attack.” Pepper laughed. “Yeah, it will be late but I'll be up.” Tony said pulling her into a hug.

“Good.” She said before kissing him. “You  _ need _ sleep.”

“Yeah yeah.” Tony said smiling. 

After another few kisses Pepper pushed Tony away. “I'll see you tonight.” She said before settling back to work.

Either Shuri and Peter had been waiting for them or Jarvis had told them to come. They were standing shoulder to shoulder leaning against the wall of the gym when he and Tony stepped off the elevator. They both had a single cord running from one ear and were watching something on Peter's phone. 

“Hey Mr. Stark.” Peter said, looking up when he noticed them. “We think we have the formula down. Just a few more tests when this is done.”

Shuri smiled at Peter when he spoke then turned to look at Tony. “The nanites are ready as well.”

“Good. I have the cap rough made. Just needs polished down and we can start getting it ready for assembly. Bucky do you want to, what like warm up maybe?” 

“Yeah sure.” He moved over to the weights.

“What counts as a warm up?” Peter asked. He held up a 500 pound weight for Peter to see before curling the weight a few times.

“You'll want to warm up both arms, we are going to test both.” Tony told him. He glanced up to see Tony watching him closely. He rolled his eyes before switching arms. He remembered in the gym as a teenager how hard he'd worked to move up in weights. He would have shit himself if he'd ever known how easily he should lift now.

Shuri moved over and attached what he guessed to be sensors to both arms. They didn't have leads attached but he realized they probably didn't need it. He continued to curl the weight, alternating arms every few reps until he'd worked up a thin layer of sweat. 

“So if 500 is a warm up, what's max?” Peter asked. 

“Two thousand? I haven't tried higher.” He caught the quickly hidden look of shock in Tony's face.

“Let's start at a thousand five hundred then and work up? Or was two not too much of a strain?” Peter asked. 

“Two's fine.” He began to stack weights on one of the bars. “Ready?”

Shuri held up a finger, turning her hand over. A soft gold screen projected from her hand. “Ready.” She said.

He reached and grabbed the bar. His left arm whirred and clicked softly as he prepared. He realized distantly it'd been more than six months since he had checked his limit alone in the gym. He needed to get back into the habit. Letting out a breath he lifted as he inhaled. His left arm took most of the weight. He could feel it starting to pull against his flesh as it struggled beneath the weight. Another few clicks and whirrs and the weight became easier to hold. The hydraulics were supporting it now. He held it for several moments, until his right arm began to shake then lowered it down.

“Geez.” Peter said as his arm quietly clicked, the plates settling now that the weight was gone. “That was amazing!” He smiled at Peter.

“Do you think you could lift more?” Shuri asked.

“I think so? I've never tried.”

Over there next thirty minutes they slowly worked up to his max weight, which turned out to be two thousand six hundred and fifty. After that he could get it a few inches of the ground before they hydraulics would start to slip and make sickly groaning sounds.

“Is that all we need?” He asked, racking the weights then coming to stand in front of Shuri.

Shuri frowned, her eyes scanning the room. “We need to have you catching something heavy. The muscles will react differently for that.”

“No problem!” Peter said. Before he or Tony could say anything Peter crossed the room, grabbed a 1,000 pound weight and chunked it at him like he was tossing a baseball. At the last moment instinct took over and he caught the weight so it didn't smash into his face but all eyes were on Peter.

“Uhh, Pete?” Tony said slowly.

“What? I just…” Peter's face went both pale and red at the same time as his eyes snapped to Shuri who stood staring at him in shock. “I…” Peter's eyes darted to Tony's face.

“It's your secret kid. Your choice.” Tony said with a shrug.

“I…” Peter looked back at Shuri was still staring at him. Peter licked his lips then mumbled all in a rush. “I'm Spider-Man.” 

Shuri's head turned slightly and she raised an eyebrow. Her eyes tracked over Peter. “I can see it. You will come to my lab in Wakanda someday so I can see how those powers of yours work.”

“I…Yeah okay.” Peter stammered.

“Hey kid, catch.” He said tossing the weight back at Peter who only just managed to catch it. He attempted to set the weight down while still watching Shuri and almost knocked the rack over.

Shuri laughed. “Come on bug boy. Let me show you how to import this information to the nanites.” 

They moved to the elevator. Okoye who had been standing against the wall nearest the elevators turned to follow. “It must be weird.” He said when doors closed. “Having someone following you like that all the time.”

“It's probably been happening since she was born. I doubt she thinks about it too much. Jarvis was attached to me like that a lot of my childhood. You just don't notice as much. That did take longer than I was expecting.” Tony said.

“What the tests?” He asked, walking over to grab a towel off the shelf. He wet it in the sink and wiped his face off.

“Peter outing himself.” Tony said.

He turned, and dried off his face. “It took  _ longer _ than you were expecting.”

Tony smirked. “I figured it would be in the first two hours. He's not good at secrets.”

“What's next?” He asked. 

“Well, I have to go finish working on the cap. You are welcome to come, the kids are in the lab if you wanted to go that way, or we can just call when we are ready.”

“I'll come with you. I need to get used to looking at this thing.” Tony nodded and clapped his shoulder before moving to the elevators.

“Are you still sure about all this?” Tony asked in the quiet of the elevator.

“No.” He laughed. “But it's the right thing. I trust you all and in the end I'm a liability with this.”

“Bucky, you just proved you could lift several thousand pounds. That doesn't sound like a liability.”

“I could bleed out with a well aimed punch if anyone knew where to aim.”

“Just.” Tony took a deep breath before continuing, “just don't do it because you think you have to ok? I know it's been said a dozen times already but just, only if it's what you really want.”

He nodded. “Yeah Tony. It is.” Tony nodded too.

They stepped into the forge room. He was surprised there wasn't even a hint of the foul smell from earlier. Tony crossed the room and picked up the cap. “It's already the right shape, now I just need to make it pretty.” Tony said with a grin.

He settled into a chair. The familiar sound and smell of Tony beginning to grind away the rough points hit his senses. He let his eyes drift shut. He tried to focus on the idea that in just a few hours the fist of Hydra would be no more. He knew he should feel relieved. They had forced the arm on him. Fuck he'd  _ begged _ them not to in one of his weaker moments, but now the knowledge it won't be attached to him anymore rolled his stomach. 

He pulled up any memory he could recall of himself without the arm. Memories that weren't him tucked in his three by three cell. They had taught him Russian one armed. He remembered that. After the triggers had been set they trained him on one armed combat. At least he'd be able to defend himself now. That was comforting. 

He replayed the sequence of upcoming events in his mind until he could remember each step forward and backwards. If he could approach it like a mission maybe it would be easier. 

“Buck. You still with me?” Tony's voice yanked him back out of his mind. 

“Yeah. I was thinking. Sorry.” 

Tony nodded. “So do you want it black again? Blue? Hot pink?” Tony grinned at the last one.

“Fuck you.” He shoved Tony just a bit but was unable to keep himself from laughing.

“Yeah yeah. Don't make offers you don't plan to keep. It's rude.”

“Black is fine.” He said. “Do you think the new arm with look similar to this one?” He asked.

“I mean, that's all on you.” Tony said. When he looked confused Tony continued. “With the new set up, we won't need nearly as much space as this one so it leaves design pretty open.”

He nodded. “I think as close to the same is probably best.”

“Makes the most sense.” Tony agreed. “Shuri drew a few ideas we can look at when we head back down or that can wait till this is done.”

He stood and moved to where Tony had been working. Honestly it looked done. All the rough points were smooth and the metal gleamed faintly under the lights. “Can I?” He asked, reaching for it.

“Yeah of course.” Tony said, gesturing for him to take it. 

He picked it up. Both sides were smooth. “I thought this needed to be rough, to give the skin somewhere to bond?”

Tony shook his head. “The nanites will handle the bonding now. That's what I meant when I said the new way will prevent tearing. It is still very rough, just too small for you to feel.”

“I don't understand how or what exactly are nanites?” He felt frustrated. Why would anyone assume he would know that? Then he also hadn't asked.

“Ok so nanites,” Tony looked around before standing and retrieving a pencil from a nearby station. He drew directly on the bench. “Look kind of like this.” He drew a roughly octagonal shape with small lines radiating out. “They are basically super tiny machines. Those machines can get programmed to do all sorts of things. In this case, some will make a blood vessel in your shoulder for your actual vessel to heal around. Then when it's working on its own those nanites will flush out through your blood. These ones, he tapped the arm, will create a microscopic cushion between your skin and the cap. It will keep the skin from tearing because if the strain is too much the nanites can move instead of it ripping the skin. It also means this,” Tony gestured to the cap, “will be healed almost instantly instead of the weeks the first one took.”

“What will they feel like? The nanites.” 

“Shuri has some in the lab that she's been showing Peter of you wanted to go look.”

When they stepped into the lab Shuri and Peter stood in front of her workstation. Under Shuri's close watch Peter was working on one of the golden projections. “Hey Shuri?” Tony called. She didn't look up. She made a sudden scolding sound in her throat and pointed to something Peter had done. Peter squinted at the screen for a moment then corrected it and she nodded. “Do you have that batch of nanites from T'challa's suit? Bucky wanted to feel what the new pad will be.” 

She smiled, “Yeah. Just a moment.” Peter stopped what he was working on as she surveyed it closely. “Good.” She told Peter who grinned before she moved around the workstation. “Here” Shuri placed a small ball in his right palm, it looked similar to one of the beads but not quite. It had no white marking in it and seemed to shimmer strangely. 

Shuri touched a bead to his wrist. The nanites shimmered purple then spread across his palm and up his wrist. It was a strange feeling. It flowed like water but did not feel wet. The longer it remained on his hand the more he noticed a cooling effect. He tried to close a fist around the nanites. It was like trying to squeeze rubber. The harder he tried to squeeze the more the nanites pressed back against his hand. When he let his palm open the nanites spread back up his palm and wrist like nothing happened. “So this will be between my skin and the metal?”

“Not exactly. Those nanites have been woven into fabric and are thousands of nanites thick to be able to see them. For your arm they will be only one nanite thick, you will not be able to see them. You may not even feel them.”

“Same tech though right? Same idea?”

“Same tech.” Tony confirmed. “The one for your arm is woven like a fabric with each nanites connecting and alternating function. One will connect to skin then the next to metal then again to skin in a pattern across the area.”

He nodded and offered the nanites back to Shuri. She touched one of the beads again and the nanites returned to a small ball.

Tony passed the cap over to Shuri and Peter. He settled in his chair. Over the next hour and a half the two worked with tweezers, carefully laying thread-like lines of Peter's upgraded micro ribbon into the arm. Tony told him when it was done it would feel just like when someone touched his right arm. If he didn't think about what it was, or what it meant he found it easier to watch the two work. 

When the ribbons were in place Shuri coated the outside surface in a paper thin coat of vibranium. He was distantly aware she was talking to him. He tried to pull himself forward, to focus on what she said but her voice sounded far away. “will allow for stimuli…” “with it they”. He shook his head but finally gave up and leaned back in his chair. 

It might have been seconds or weeks before a hand dropped on his shoulder making him jump. “If you want to get Cap down here, we are ready.” The words hit him with all the force of a stun baton. “Or we can wait till after dinner.” Tony's brown eyes were worried. 

“I'll text him.” He said. 

>Ready when you are.

He had barely hit send when his phone dinged.

>>Be right there.

“He's on his way.” He told Tony. He felt simultaneously ice cold and completely devoid of any feeling.

Tony nodded, “let's get everything together.” He told Peter and Shuri.

The elevator opened and he heard Steve's boots as he crossed the floor. “Hey Buck.” Steve said quietly.

He went willingly into Steve's open arms, curling in on himself until it felt like Steve's body engulfed him. When they stepped apart he saw a brush and hair tie in Steve's hand. “Thanks Stevie.” He dropped back into his chair. He knew Tony wouldn't care and he was past the point of worrying if seeing he and Steve being affectionate would bother Peter or Shuri. 

Steve brushed his hair longer than was necessary but he couldn't bring himself to tell Steve to get on with it either. When the hair tie was wrapped around his hair, holding it away from his face it suddenly felt like Steve hadn't spent nearly enough time. He stood. The emptiness had been replaced with a heat that felt at strange counterpoint to the coldness he also felt. He crossed the room and sat on the medical table.

“Good?” Tony asked, but his eyes were set on Steve not him so he didn't try to answer.

“I can guarantee he's going to puke at some point.” Steve was saying, he really did try to listen to the rest but it was like hearing through water. “Still here Buck?” Steve's voice pulled him back up. He nodded.

“Ok. Let's run through all the steps one last time.” Tony said. 

Shuri held up her thumb, “We will numb the nerve in his shoulder.” She held up her index finger, “We will block the blood vessel.” He looked down at her shoes. He was pretty confident they were made at least in part with vibranium. The soft shimmer looked familiar. “...remove the arm.”  _ Shit _ he was supposed to be listening. He pulled himself back for the next few steps but just couldn't hold it.

“Ready Buck?” Steve's voice pulled him back. Rather than verbally answering he simply lay back. Steve moved to stand by his head, if he opened his eyes he was staring up into Steve's bright blue eyes. Shuri moved next to his left arm.

“Do you want me to walk you through what I am doing while I do it?” Shuri asked. He could feel her hand rest on his left shoulder, half on skin half on metal.

“No.” He said and he saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. He closed his eyes and forced himself to fall still. A soft pinch at his shoulder alerted him to the shot that would numb the nerve. A larger hand rested on his left arm. Tony had switched with Shuri and was now carefully removing the plates, starting at his hand. As Tony moved up his arm it became increasingly difficult to feel Tony's hands as he worked. By the time Tony got past his elbow he could no longer feel anything Tony did. He kept the arm limp and pliable so Tony could move it as needed to remove the screws. He opened his eyes. Steve still watched his face intently. When their eyes met Steve smiled. Steve leaned down and kissed his forehead. He let his eyes close again.

Movement at his left side told him Tony had got the plates removed. He felt a pressure deep in his shoulder as Shuri worked to cut the blood supply to his arm. A sudden feeling like ice spread through his shoulder and he hissed through his teeth. “Almost done.” Shuri said calming. He squeezed his eyes closed tighter. He was falling, laying in the snow. The world around him was white. The only color was the red of the snow beneath him. He prayed the red would be enough to find him. He couldn't go on, was going to die. His eyes snapped open. The cold was fading and Steve's bright blue eyes still held his. He took a few deep breaths.

“Redirected blood flow.” Shuri said, her voice even and calm. The pressure eased in his shoulder, everyone was silent. There was no panicked scramble of movement. It had been successful. He closed his eyes again. He could hear Tony take Shuri's place. Tony rested a hand on his chest, just above his hammering heart for a moment. 

Even numb he could feel as Tony began to work on removing the false humerus from it's connection point in his shoulder. It didn't hurt but he could feel the weight of it moving as Tony worked. The memories felt like they were pressing in on his mind. Each time they tried to overwhelm him he'd open his eyes long enough to see the blue in Steve's eyes. “Almost.” Tony said through gritted teeth then an audible pop followed by a heavy thud as his arm half fell to the floor before Tony caught it. 

He didn't remember standing but he was and just as quickly he was overbalancing, falling. Steve's arms caught him, helped lower him back into sitting down. “Easy Bucky.” He whispered into his ear. “You're ok. Gonna lay you back down but we won't start again till you're ready ok?” Steve helped him lay back. The table was rattling. It was distracting and he wanted it to stop. He realized far slower than he could have that he was shivering violently.

He heard movement far to his left and opened his eyes. Shuri and Peter stood about fifteen feet away behind Okoye. One of Tony's suits stood before the three of them on guard even though Tony still stood next to the table. He let his head fall back forcing himself to breath. He'd scared them. But Tony had seen the video, watched him attempt to kill scientists the last time his arm was changed. Of course they were scared. A weapon, misfiring against those trying to fix it. 

He lurched up again. He wasn't sure exactly how Steve knew but a trash bin was pressed into his hands and Steve's hand braced on the back of his neck keeping him stable as he puked. Steve shifted, the weight of him pressing into his right side holding him stable. Let let his weight drop against Steve's side. He was shaking again. When the puking stopped Steve remained pressed against his side. Steve's hand ran up and down his back. “You good Buck?” Steve asked softly. 

A bottle of water appeared in his view. He looked up to see Tony. “Thanks.” He croaked out. His throat felt raw. It was already open. He realized with a roll of nausea if it hadn't been he wouldn't have been able to open it easily alone. He pushed the thought away and watched his mouth out, spitting into the bin. He took several long drinks of water before letting Steve lower him back down. “Good.” He pushed out.

He heard moment again. He opened his eyes, watching Shuri settle next to him out of the corner of his eyes. She hid the fear she must feel well. Her face was fixed as she focused. He closed his eyes again. “This may feel cold as well.” She said softly. He ran through the events in his mind. The nanites were doing to break the connection with the current cap. 

Unlike when they reformed the vein he coolness was almost nice as the nanites began to break the bonds that had held the cap on his body for decades. He watched Steve's eyes. Unlike Shuri, Steve had no ability to hide the feelings from his face. He looked worried but at least he didn't seem scared. The feeling of the cap starting to break away from the skin made his stomach roll again.

A soft damp cloth brushed the skin on his shoulder above where the metal connected and began wiping gently down his arm. He realized several seconds slower than he would have liked that the cloth didn't encounter any metal. The cap was gone. His eyes snapped up to Steve's. Steve was still only looking at his face. “The damage to the skin is more severe than the scans showed.” Shuri spoke. “I will need a few minutes.” He heard her stand and move.

Memories from Hydra clawed behind his eyes. Memories of first seeing the useless stump where his arm had been. Each time Hydra came up with a new idea the stump got shorter as they cut away skin and bone. Steeling himself he turned his head and looked. 

The section of skin the cap had covered was converted in bruises in various shades of healing. The stump moved of its own accord lifting up off the table so he could see it better.  _ No _ he realized, that was stupid. Of course he'd been the one to move it. From the tip of his shoulder only about five inches of arm now remained. It too was mottled with bruises as the cap had pulled and tore at the skin that connected it.

He looked back up at Steve, whose eyes hadn't left his face. Steve leaned down till Steve's lips were next to his ear. “So proud of you Buck. You're doing amazing.” Steve whispered.

“Scared everyone.” He grumbled back.

“You were scared too. No one holds it against you. Honestly we all figured you'd be up an’ down a lot more than you have been.”

“Hate this.” He said softly.

“I know Buck. You're doing great. The hardest parts are over now.” Steve pressed a kiss into his lips.

“Okay.” Shuri's voice was close when she spoke. “This should feel nice.” A wave of coolness spread over his arm where the cap had been. “They need to work for a minute.” Shuri said calmly. He closed his eyes and let his head drop. Even laying down the world felt off balance. 

A hand rested over his heart. He hadn't heard Tony switch places with Shuri. Tony pressed the cap into his arm. The pressure was familiar and soothing. “Ok Cap.” Tony said. He opened his eyes to look at Tony. Tony wasn't looking at him, instead his eyes were in Steve. Steve had stopped looked at him too. “Two to three minutes.” Tony said and Steve was nodding. “Peter, Shuri, we have pizza waiting upstairs. Come on.” Tony stood, and Steve moved to keep pressure in the cap. 

“What? Come on! Mr. Stark we need to-” Peter started.

“The only thing we  _ need _ to do right now is go get something to eat. I'm starving.” 

“But-” was all Shuri got out before Okoye made a sharp sound and Shuri too feel quiet. Moments later the lab was empty save him and Steve.

“You and Tony planned that?” He asked. 

Steve smiled. “Tony and I will never see eye to eye but we can work together.”

“You love that joke.” He said quietly. Steve's hand not pressing the cap into his shoulder moved up to stroke his cheek. Steve curled his fingers and scratched gently at his stubble. It had been a few days since he'd last shaved he realized. “Arm looked like your face after an alley fight.” He said softly, trying to smile.

Steve laughed easily. “I was only that bad once or twice.” The pressure Steve was holding on the cap lessened until his hand simply rested on the metal. “Still numb?” Steve asked.

He shook his head and let his eyes close. He could feel Steve's hand move over the cap just as easily as if it were his skin. The contact still made his stomach roll. “They did good.” He said quietly.

“Yeah? How bout this?” Steve's fingertips ghosted over his arm. He nodded. “Good. So sitting and standing and standing will probably be a little weird.” Steve said. “Is it ok if I help?” He nodded. Steve carefully guided him until he sat, legs hanging off the table. Steve moved to press against his right side. Everything felt unnatural. “You've gotten used to counterbalancing for all that weight for so long your muscles are going to want to still do that.” Steve said. “Think you can sit up straight on your own?”

A wave of frustration rolled over him. He knew it was unreasonable to snap, knew none of this was Steve's fault but couldn't stop himself. “I'm not fucking helpless Steve! I had to deal with this on my own after it happened and I can deal with it fine now!” He didn't miss the flash of hurt on Steve's face before it was swallowed up by the look of concern. He hadn't wanted to hurt Steve. He closed his eyes. “I'm sorry Stevie. I'm being an ass.”

Steve moved carefully from his side, keeping pressure on his left shoulder with his hand. “It's ok Buck. I can't even imagine the feelings and thoughts you are having. If you need to yell just yell okay? I won't be upset.”

He moved his right arm up and pulled Steve in for a kiss. Steve's hands moved to cup his cheek, the other resting where the metal met skin in his shoulder.

“Mr. Stark wishes for me to inform you both that pizza is available if you are hungry but that they all understand if you prefer to be alone.” Jarvis said.

“Fuck, yeah that's not happening.” He said.

“I shall let him know.” Jarvis replied.

Steve leaned back and carefully removed the hand on his shoulder. Immediately his whole body tried to lean to the right. With conscious effort he was able to sit straight but it made his back ache. He tried to remember when they'd attached the arm, had it hurt like this then as his body adjusted to the weight. It took him far longer than it should have to remember he wouldn't have noticed the change. He would have been in cryo. They'd wedged it on him and the first thing he'd done was attempt to kill a scientist so he'd been tossed back in cryo then wiped. Howard had been the first civilian to see the arm they'd just removed he realized. He barely managed to locate the bucket and dive to the floor before he threw up again. 

Steve's hands stabilized him as he wretched up bile. He leaned back against a work bench panting. His stomach still spasmed at random intervals as if trying to push any last bit of sick up his throat. Steve rubbed the back of his neck gently. “Think you're ok to stand?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah.” His throat burned, his voice was raspy.

Steve stood first then knelt so he could grab Steve's shoulder with his right hand. His left arm raised uselessly as though reaching out. Steve helped pull him up. The world immediately pitched sideways and he half fell into Steve's chest. Steve held him. “I've got you.” Steve murmured. He hated this, hated feeling helpless. His eyes burned.

He leaned back and Steve let him easily. He forced himself to focus on standing straight without Steve pressing on him. Steve seemed much more reluctant to completely let him go. When Steve's hands feel away sheer force of will was about the only thing keeping him up. He wanted to brush his teeth and shower. He felt gross. “Come on.” He said, taking a few steps towards the elevator. Walking was harder, the world felt like it was moving too fast under his feet. Steve followed close watching him. “Gonna go shower.” He said.

“Sounds good, I'll come with you.” Steve said. His voice almost managed the easy tone Steve was going for.

“I can handle it.” He said firmly.

“I know you can Buck. I'd still rather come with you.”

“Damn it Steve I don't need a fucking keeper!” He snapped. He stumbled sideways into a workbench. Steve moved to help and he punched him, or he would have if his arm was more than a few inches long. “God damnit!” He shouted. Steve stopped his approach even without the failed swing connecting. 

“Bucky.” Steve started his voice barely a whisper. “I know you can do it but…” Steve took a slow breath before continuing, “this has been a lot for me too. I'd really like to be with you, if that's ok.” 

He looked at Steve's face. Steve wasn't lying.  _ Fuck _ . “Yeah, okay Stevie.” He said. He wondering if his voice sounded as drained as he suddenly felt. Pushing up off the bench he moved unsteadily forward, Steve next to him. On the elevator he stole a quick glance at Steve. He hadn't considered the idea this might have some impact on Steve too. Of course it would. His eyes closed.

The elevator opened, he stepped into the apartment and Pup jumped on him. Immediately he was on his ass, Pup in his face licking him and smelling his lack of arm. He struggled to push her off. It took her less than two seconds to figure out on his left side even when he pushed her back she could still stretch to lick his face. “Pup.” Steve said firmly. She at least had the courtesy to look scolded as she backed up. Steve held out a hand which he took to allow himself to be pulled up to his feet. The swift change in height made his head spin. He dropped his forehead to Steve's shoulder until the dizziness pressed.

Steve pressed a kiss into his temple. “Love you Stevie.” 

Steve smiled. “Love you too doll. I'll grab us towels.”

He nodded. “Gonna brush my teeth.” He walked down the hall, through their bedroom and into the bathroom. Picking up his toothbrush from the cup he reached for the toothpaste. His left arm raised a few inches as if somehow that would fucking help. He took a deep breath before setting the toothbrush down on the counter and grabbing the toothpaste instead in his right hand. The rounded back of the toothbrush meant it rolled on its side while he retrieved the toothpaste. Opening the cap he used the heel of his palm to force the toothbrush bristles up once more. It took a try or two before he successfully deposited paste on the upturned bristles. Moving to set the tube down his toothbrush rolled and the paste slid off the bristles and into the countertop.

He let his head fall back with a low groan of frustration. He just wanted to brush the fucking taste out of his mouth. Why the fuck was the universe punishing him. He looked up, eyes catching his reflection in the mirror. Except, it wasn't him, at least not anymore. Sunken eyes peered out from a dirty face, hair shaggy just past his ears, fleshy left arm a stump limply at his side.

The sound of shattering glass brought him back to himself. “Fuck!” He heard Steve from the other room. He blinked, looking around. He'd seen… He looked back at the mirror but it was gone pieces of glass dusting the floor and counter. A wet drip brought his gaze down. His right hand was dripping blood into the smooth creme of the tile floor.

The door banged own next to him. “Jesus Buck.” Steve said, his eyes taking in the shattered mirror, the toothbrush, toothpaste on the counter, and then his bleeding hand. “Come here.” Steve said gently, then over his shoulder, “Jarvis can we get a clean up?”

“Certainly sir.” Jarvis replied as Steve shut the bathroom door behind them. Steve's hands on his shoulders guided him to their bed. 

“Stay there.” Steve told him before disappearing out the door. He returned a moment later with a small first aid kit. 

“Really?” He asked. The idea of two super soldiers owning a tiny medical kit like the one he'd used to patch up Steve when they were kids was intensely amusing.

“Hey it's coming in handy.” Steve knelt at his feet, gently turning his still dripping hand. A pair of tweezers appeared and Steve began to carefully removed the glass shards. “So what happened?” Steve asked after several quiet minutes.

He opened his mouth to respond but stopped. Where the memories should be black stretched. Suddenly he felt like he'd been dropped in ice water.

“I...I.” he babbled desperate to get  _ something _ past his lips.

“Bucky. Bucky hey.” Steve crooned. “What is it?” 

“Can't… Don't remember.” He said. Somehow giving voice to the issue made it feel so much worse.

Steve however didn't seem concerned. “Okay, you went to brush your teeth. What happened then?”

A memory flickered in his mind. “Couldn't get toothpaste on the brush, it fell into the counter.”

Steve nodded. “Then?” 

“I was mad. I closed my eyes. Then I opened them…” the memory flared back. “I saw my reflection but it wasn't me. Or it was but it was me back at Hydra, after they broke me.” Steve nodded. “That's all I remember.” He finished softly. 

“Sounds like the stress of today is really getting to you. That's understandable. Are you feeling ok now?*

“Sorry I freaked out and broke the mirror.”

Steve stretched up to kiss his lips. “It's ok Buck. Like I said, today has been a lot. Let's get your toothbrush ready so you can brush your teeth. I'm sure that taste is awful.”

He nodded and looked back at his hand. It was now glass free. Steve helped him stand and they held hands as they walked back to the bathroom. The heat of Steve's hand was soothing on his frayed nerves. It was disconcerting to walk into the bathroom and find it spotless. The only evidence anything had happened was the missing mirror. 

Steve put toothpaste on his toothbrush and passed it to him. He spent far longer than was expressly needed scrubbing every inch of his mouth with the toothbrush to try to lessen the horrible taste in his mouth. Steve left and returned with the towels he'd originally gone to fetch, hanging them on the towel rack. 

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Steve stripped. As much as he'd loved and been attracted to Steve before the serum, he definitely enjoyed how Steve looked now as well. Steve's hand snaked down to rub his half hard cock a few times before he turned to start the water. When they were young he'd tease Steve that a stiff breeze was all it took to get him going. Steve probably would be more than half hard if he hadn't fucking flipped out over nothing.

Shaking his head he rinsed the brush in the water before filling a cup to rinse out his mouth. The taste was still there but much fainter now. He reached over his shoulder and grabbed his shirt, dragging it over his head and tossing it to join Steve's discarded clothes. 

It took a few tries to pop the button on his pants. While Steve's back was to him as he started the water he could practically feel the other man wanting to help but giving him the chance to do it himself. He was pleased to manage getting nude without assistance. He stepped into the shower after Steve. 

The warm water pounded into his back as he wrapped his arms around Steve's middle, pulling Steve into a hug. Steve wrapped his arms around him. He felt safe pressed against Steve's muscular chest. He felt some of the tension from the day melting away. “‘Member the first time we showered together?” He asked. He felt Steve's dick twitch against his stomach.

“Trying hard not to.” Steve said, laughing.

“Why?” He asked, shifting his hips to give Steve better friction.

Steve let out a very undignified groan and ground against him twice before pulling back end to look at him. “Because right now I need to focus on you not my dick.” Steve said firmly. He opened his mouth to protest but Steve cut across him. “I'm serious Buck. Not right now. We both need a little down time.” He huffed but didn't argue. Steve caught his chin and pulled his head up for a kiss. “Step into the water.” The sudden shift to a command startled him and his muscles jumped to obey but he stopped the movement.

“Why?” He asked, as if he wasn't sure the answer.

“Gonna to wash your hair.” Steve said easily dropping out of the commanding tone to answer.

He squashed the knee jerk reaction to tell Steve to fuck off. Steve had let him do most things on his own since coming up to the apartment. “I don't need help.” He said, sounding far more like a petulant child than he'd intended.

“Know you can Buck.” Steve's tone was gentle all the same. He looked Steve in the eyes, searching for a moment before moving to follow Steve's order. “Good.” Steve crooned. It shouldn't be possible for something to simultaneously warm his heart and go straight to his dick.

The water pounded his back, dampening the ends of his hair. Steve reached out and tipped his chin back so the water could soak his hair. A few drops ran down his face and he closed his eyes. He wished Steve would give another order. Stopping to ask questions had delayed the pleasant buzz that normally filled his mind when he started following orders.

Steve's arms braced on his shoulders as Steve reached behind him to scrub his hair, making sure it was completely soaked in the water. “Turn.” 

He turned easily, keeping his head tipped back as Steve had moved him. Steve's arms wrapped around him pulling them together. Steve pressed soft kisses into his shoulder and held him close. With a sigh Steve stepped back. “Come here.” He followed Steve backwards. He heard a pop and just had enough time to recognize the smell of his shampoo before Steve began to work it into his hair. 

A low sound of contentment rumbled through his chest as Steve's fingers massaged his scalp. Steve reached past him to wash his hands before telling him, “turn.” He turned too quickly and overbalanced. Steve's hand caught his shoulder gently stabilizing him before guiding him back under the water. 

Steve's fingers returned to his scalp, gently working out the shampoo. Steve's hand gently pulled him back and turned him without speaking after his hair was rinsed. He relaxed, letting himself be moved, eyes closed how Steve needed him. Another pop told him conditioner was coming. Steve's fingers smoothed it through his hair, working out the knots and tangles as he worked the conditioner in.

Steve turned him back under the water and tipped his chin back. He moved easily. Steve's fingers ghosted up his neck and back down as he stood letting the water wash away the suds.

Steve guided him back out of the water and turned him. He let his eyes open to see Steve lathering up the soap. Even with other options like body wash he still preferred the bar of soap Steve had gotten him when he'd first moved in. Any time it got low another would appear. He wondered how hard it was to find. 

His eyes closed once more Steve ran the soapy washcloth across his shoulder. He let Steve move him, content to just be as the familiar smell of the soap filled his nose. There in the quiet with his eyes closed he could have been seventeen again. He and Steve had shared showers with increasing frequency as they grew. 

At first it had been to help Steve through when he was too sick to wash for himself. Then when Steve got better it was to help save money and hot water. He wasn't sure exactly when the silent agreement passed between them and they started sharing every shower. 

Steve moved his right arm over his head to wash under his arms and over his ribs. A tap on his chest signaled when the arm could come down. Steve raised the stump of his left arm as if it was really even in the way. He let it slump back to his side with a wet slap. He knew how short his left arm was, Steve didn't need it above his head. 

He let out a strangled shout as Steve pinched the skin over his left ribs hard. It hadn't hurt so much as startled him, he realized far too late to take the noise back. When Steve pushed his left arm up here dutifully kept it up. As Steve washed where the metal met his skin he was amazed to realize he really couldn't tell exactly where the transition was based only on the way the sensation registered in his mind.

A tap on his chest told him to drop his arm. Steve ran the washcloth over his chest and down his stomach. Two soft thumps signaled Steve dropping to his knees before the cloth returned to wash across his hips. 

He tried to imagine how Steve looked without opening his eyes. It didn't do as much for him as it apparently did for Steve. If Steve was down there to suck him off, that would be a different story. His cock twitched lazily at the idea. He couldn't stop from smirking at the knowledge Steve was nose level with his dick.

Steve pushed lightly on his thigh and he widened his stance. Out of habit his right arm slipped behind his back. His right hand opened and closed before his brain caught up and he remembered there would be no left wrist for his right hand to grab to. His right hand closed into a fist and he fell still.

In spite of Steve keeping the cloth on his skin as he moved, he still jumped a tiny bit when Steve's hands wrapped around his cock to wash it. While Steve's actions felt far from clinical it was also very obvious Steve wasn't trying to wind him up with the touch. He forced himself to relax, letting his mind fall blank again as Steve worked. The fuzziness which had broken at the pinch began to refill his mind. 

Steve worked down each leg before speaking. “Put your right hand on my shoulder.” He managed it without opening his eyes. As soon as he had a grip Steve gently pulled his foot up to wash between his toes and under his foot.

When Steve released his right foot he lifted his left without promoting. “So good.” Steve said softly. A soft hum filled the room. It took him a moment to realize it was coming from him. He fell silent. Steve taped his hip. “Turn.” He started to move but Steve's hand gripped his hip, stopping him. “Slowly.” Steve said. 

He managed to turn slow enough not to over balance and Steve began to wash up his legs. When Steve spread his ass to wash vivid memories Steve spreading him for very different reasons flooded his hazy brain. He wondered if Steve would fuck him now. Well, not right now but after his arm was back. Steve wouldn't want to fuck him like this. Honestly he was surprised Steve even wanted to look at him like this. He filed it away to ask Steve about later.

Steve stood washing over his back and shoulders. “Turn.” Steve said softly. Steve carefully insured the water rinsed him clean. “There.” Steve told him, pressing a kiss into his forehead.

He smiled, eyes opening to meet Steve's. “Your turn.” He said, reaching for the body wash. Steve's hand caught his wrist.

“Buck, you don't need to do that.” He said calmly.

“Know that. But I want to.” He replied. Steve's eyes searched his for several moments before Steve released his hand. Smiling he plucked the washcloth out of Steve's hand and rinsed the last of his soap off. He applied a generous amount of Steve's body wash to the cloth. He rubbed the cloth against itself until the cloth was covered in a white foam. 

He ran the cloth across Steve's chest, watching the other man slowly relax. After his arm was fixed they definitely should take showers together more regularly. He washed down Steve's arms, eyes mapping now familiar scars. Steve's fingers while much thicker than they had been when Steve was a kid still seemed long and delicate for his hands. Artist hands, he'd told Steve when Steve complained.

He dropped easily to his knees. He could feel Steve's eyes burning into his scalp. Steve was hard enough to pound nails. Not that that was any big feat. As kids he’d made a game of coming up with the most creative ways to say Steve got horny easy. More protest from Steve, higher the score. The winner had been when he'd informed Steve with a completely straight face that the wind off a rat fart two blocks down was enough to get Steve hard. Steve had still been mad even after the sex.

He ran the cloth over Steve's hips and down but dropped it to the shower floor to instead stroke Steve's cock with his bare hand. Either Steve hadn't been watching or he'd moved quickly enough because Steve's whole body jerked into his fist as he pulled Steve's cock. “Jesus Buck.” Steve's hand caught his shoulder. 

He was much better at this with his left hand. Still he focused on twisting his wrist exactly how he knew it drove Steve wild. “Buck stop.” It was an order. He ignored it. He turned his eyes to look up at Steve's face. Steve's eyes were on him. He couldn't help himself. With a grin he leaned forward and licked straight up the underside of Steve's cock. 

It would never stop amazing him, watching Steve fall apart. It started in his face, his eyes closing and his mouth opening. He leaned back just in time to catch the first rope of cum on his cheek. Steve's hips thrust involuntarily as he came in pulse after pulse across his face and chest. Steve's hand braced on the wall as his hand gently rang the last few drops from Steve's cock. 

He held still long enough for Steve to look down and see his face. “Fucking Christ Buck.” Steve groaned, his head falling back. He leaned back into the water to wash himself clean before collecting the cloth and returning to washing Steve. Steve moved without promoting and soon he stood to help rinse Steve off. “Love you.” Steve murmured, before catching the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Love you too Stevie.” He said. Stepping closer to Steve he wrapped his arms around Steve's waist. Steve tucked his nose into the crook of his neck.

“Ready to get out?” Steve asked after several long minutes under the hot spray of water. He nodded and turned to turn off the water. Steve wrapped a towel around him. He momentarily considered insisting on trying to dry himself but decided against it. It would be difficult and awkward and highly ineffective. Steve seemed quite content to dry him off. 

When Steve draped the towel over his shoulders and carefully pulled his hair over so it would drip on the towel and not him he wandered into the bedroom. He considered going straight for clothes but that was a beast he wasn't fully ready to tackle yet. He dropped onto the bed instead. 

Steve followed a few minutes later, hairbrush in hand. Steve, who also hadn't yet bothered with clothes, sat behind him. Steve gently divided his hair into sections and began to brush each section, carefully working through the knots washing always seemed to put in his hair. He closed his eyes enjoying the soft tug of the brush and the gentle movements of Steve's fingers as he worked. A soft sigh slipped pressed his lips. Steve kissed his shoulder.

“Hey Stevie?”

“Yeah?” Steve carefully pulled all his hair together to brush through it now that the worst of the tangles were cleared.

“Think you'd ever wanna fuck me again?” To Steve's credit his movements barely faltered at the question. He rushed to continue, “I mean, obviously not now while I'm fucked up.” He lifted and dropped his left arm to emphasize his point. “But after, once Tony puts me right again.” Steve was silent, though he continued brushing. Cold dread filled his chest the longer Steve didn't answer. Finally unable to handle the quiet any longer he stammered “We don't...I mean… Nevermind. Just forget I asked.” He made to stand but Steve's hand clamped on his shoulder.

“Sit down Buck. I'm not upset but we apparently have some things we need to talk about.” He stilled uncertainly. The last fucking thing he wanted was to sit while Steve what? let him down gently?. “Turn around.” Steve's voice held the edge of an order and he was glad to follow if only for the whisper of contentment it brought. Steve's bright blue eyes held his for a moment. “First, since apparently it does need said, yes. I would like to have sex with you. I've wanted that since the day I found out you were alive, I've just been waiting till you were ready for that level of intimacy.” The knot where his stomach had been started to loosen. “Now give me a second to think ok?” He nodded.

It was easier to breathe now that he had an answer. And of course they'd been waiting on him, just as Tony had said. 

“When you say it's obvious not now, why?” Steve asked slowly. Out of all the questions that hadn't been one he'd expected. He let his left arm raise then drop back to his side. “Right. But why?”Steve said then frowning he changed his wording. “Why does that stop us.”

“I'm broken.” He said, still completely unsure how Steve was missing this point. He was damaged goods right now, fixable but damaged. No one wanted a weapon that couldn't fire.

“Buck.” Steve said, his tone softening like somehow he was the one confused not Steve. “You're not broken.” Steve said firmly.

The emptiness left when his stomach unknotted filled with anger. He wasn't stupid. “I don't need fucking placated Steve.” He snapped. “I'm missing a damn arm. I know what broken looks like.” 

“So what?” Steve's voice rose to meet his. “Just because you don't have your left arm it doesn't make you fucking broken.”

“I couldn't even brush my own damn teeth without flipping shit and shattering the fucking mirror. I--” Steve shoved him hard and he fell back onto the bed. Steve's hand covered his mouth and held firmly. A feeling of comfortable familiarity washed past the anger in his stomach. He tried to reach back and find a memory that would explain the contentment but nothing came. 

Steve leaned over him until Steve's blue eyes were only a few inches from his own. “Needing help doesn't make you broken Buck. It makes you human. I love you and I care about you and no matter what that isn't changing. And you're fucking hot, left arm or not.”

Steve didn't immediately remove his hand, forcing him to instead process Steve's words. By the time Steve's hand fell away from his face he was ready. “Then let's do it.” He said, calling Steve's bluff. “If it doesn't bother you and we were both just waiting on me, let's go.”

Steve hesitated. Of course he did. He had to think of some way out now. Steve was quick on his feet, it wouldn't be long. “Are you sure it's something you actually want. You're not just trying to prove a point or something?”

That was all he could come up with? “I'm sure Stevie.” He said.

He'd expected Steve to hesitate, expected him to try to think of another excuse. What he hadn't expected was Steve's mouth to come crashing down into his. He surprise opened his mouth and Steve's tongue shot in. Steve's left hand moved across his chest and firmly pinned down his left arm. He tried to shift his left arm and Steve pushed it back harder. A groan slipped past his lips and Steve swallowed it.

Steve kissed a line from his lips down his jaw. Steve's day old stubble scratched his neck as Steve kissed down his neck before latching into the sensitive point where his neck and shoulder met. He tried to arch into the sensation but Steve's hand on his arm kept him pinned. Steve continued to suck until he was sure he'd have a mark. 

He moved his right hand, which was mostly pinned under Steve's body, trying to reach any part of Steve worth grabbing. Steve simply shifted his weight, locking down his right arm too. Giving up on movement he instead let out a soft whine. Steve pulled back with an audible pop. “Poor Buck. What's wrong?” Steve purred.

“'M stuck.” He said as he tried to unsuccessfully lift his shoulders.

“Good. You were being an ass. You don't need to move.” 

He recognized wording immediately. Adapting to the new game he spoke, his tone soft and calm. “Sorry for bein’ an ass Stevie. How can I make it up to you?” He flashed Steve a grin.

“By staying put.”

That wasn't the answer he'd hoped for. “What do I gotta beg?” He snipped, the softness fading from his tone.

“Might not hurt.” Steve said but before he could say anything Steve bit his nipple hard. 

A strangled cry slipped from his open mouth as he arched into Steve's mouth. Steve's tongue soothed over the aching skin. He whined squirming under Steve's weight. He could probably roll them if he could just angle his left ar… He had half a moment to glance towards his left arm before Steve bit his other nipple, cutting off all thought.

“If I let you up, think you can do what I tell you and not be an ass?” Steve's words pulled him through the soft fog beginning to fill his mind from the bites. He wanted to especially if it kept things going.

He licked his lips, “Yes sir.” This close he could see Steve react to the honorific. Before he could comment Steve rolled off him and spoke.

“On your knees.” He froze, reality crashing down on him. 

“I...I can't. I-” Steve pinched his leg hard and the rest of the thought was replaced by a yelp. 

“Didn't ask if you had an opinion on it. Up.” He moved quickly. Once he tried he found it easy enough to balance on his knees and one arm, his left hanging useless. Steve's hand pressed between his shoulders and he carefully lowered himself, moving slowly until his head was pillowed on his right arm. “Trust me to know what you can handle Buck. I won't ask you to do anything if I don't think you are capable.” Steve's fingers ghosted over his back, up the valley of his spine. “You look so amazing like this. It's been  _ way _ too long.” 

He nodded. Memories of the frantic rutting in the war room whispered back through his mind. They'd been so happy to see each other. So relieved the other was ok. No time to enjoy. No time before.

Steve bit his hip making him jump. He'd forgotten how bitey Stevie could be. Steve pressed a kiss into the bite before shifting off the bed. Steve grabbed the towel that had been around his shoulders and spread it under him on the bed. He heard Steve rustling in the dresser before returning, a hand resting on his back as he did. “Ready Buck?” Steve's voice was rough and he couldn't help but smile into his arm. He nodded.

He heard the cap pop followed by a wet noise as Steve spread lube. For a brief moment he worried Steve was planning to just press into him. That had worked decades ago but. He forced himself to trust Steve not to try to skip prep. How concerns were soothed as the tip of Steve's finger teased his hole before slipping in.

In spite of memories to draw on the sheer unfamiliarity made his back arch. Steve continued to press until he was fully in, Steve's hand against his ass. It burned softly but wasn't enough to feel uncomfortable. Steve's other hand smoothed over his back. He slowly relaxed his muscles. “Gonna move.” Steve warned before drawing his finger out and pressing in again. 

It didn't take long for him to press back into each thrust of Steve's hand. Steve didn't ask if he was ready for a second finger. Instead the hand on his back stilled his movements. The second finger definitely burned some. He focused on relaxing. Steve hooked his fingers and everything went white hot as his hips jerked involuntarily. He heard Steve chuckle as he moved, at first just thrusting but then over time scissoring his fingers apart. 

“Not gonna break.” He complained and Steve chuckled again.

“Keep whining. I can do this all night.” Steve's voice held a threat. 

With a whine he changed tactics. “Please Stevie? It's been so long. I just want to feel your cock in my ass. I'm so ready for you. Please?”

That seemed to do it. With a low groan Steve's fingers slipped free. Steve's other hand caught his hair in a fist and pulled, dragging his head and inch off his arms. “You're a shit and I love you.” Steve said into his ear.

“Love you.” He replied and Steve freed his hair. 

“I thought about having you suck me, get me wet, but I don't think either of us have the patience for that tonight.” He shook his head in his arms. Steve's hand wrapped around his cock pumping lazily. He let out a yelp of surprise before his hips naturally moved to match the rhythm Steve set. Then just as quick as it had started, Steve stopped.

The pop of the lube was his only indication something was happening. The blunt head of Steve's cock pressed against him and he whined softly. 

That seemed to be all the encouragement Steve needed as the other man pressed into him. He grit his teeth and willed his body to relax against the burn and pressure. Steve didn't stop until he was fully settled in him. He took a few slow breaths as his body relaxed.

“Fuck Bucky so tight.” Steve purred. His dick twitched at the praise and he felt Steve twitch in him. With a smirk he clenched down hard and Steve's hips jerked. Steve pinched his ass but it wasn't hard. “Ready?” Steve asked.

He nodded and Steve started to move. Some things felt so different. The weight of Steve and the strength in his movements, the fact that muscles now smacked his ass instead of thin hip bones. In spite of the differences he still recognized the rhythm Steve set, the soft dig of Steve's fingernails into his hips as he tightened his hold. It felt so familiar and so foreign but completely wonderful.

Bracing as well as he could on one arm he began to fuck back, meeting each of Steve's thrusts. It took a few tries to correct the angle before Steve was slamming into his prostate with every thrust. “Use your hand.” Steve said, his voice tight. “But hurry I'm close.”

“Fuck can you be close?” He gripped, “Just rubbed you off in the shower.”

“Couple decades to catch up on asshole” Steve said.

He tried to think of a reply but without moving he already felt the pressure building. His cock throbbed, desperate for any contact. He focused on thrusting back against Steve's thrust. So close, just a couple more thrusts… He came with a shout, the towel beneath him catching the pulsing ropes of cum.

The bite of Steve's nails in his hips and the sharp drag of Steve's cock in his ass seemed to magnify in the over sensitivity that followed him finishing. Another minute and Steve followed him over, the rhythm of his hips faltering. Steve stilled. Steve's breath came in puffs as he caught his breath. 

Steve pulled them to the side so they could lay down without resting on the towel under him. Steve kissed his neck and shoulders, an arm tight around his waist. His eyes closed. The weight of the day washed over him. “Up. Shower.” Steve said calmly.

“Nnm. Don't wanna.” He grumbled. He'd been almost asleep. 

“And I don't want to sleep on dirty sheets. Up.” Steve pulled out. The loss felt strange after so long. He let Steve pull him to his feet. “Just rinse off. Come on.”

He let Steve guide him into the shower and start the water. As soon as his ass was clean he wandered back to bed. Steve was close on his heels. No sooner had Steve pulled the sheets over them both and draped an arm over him than he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delays in posting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

November 3

His eyes snapped open then immediately slammed shut against the brightness of the room. Whatever nightmare had chased him out of sleep had disappeared but his heart still hammered. He reached up to rub his eyes but nothing happening. Frustration that, he was sure, was disproportionate to the inconvenience bubbled in his chest but he pressed it away. Moving his right arm instead he rubbed his face.

Opening his eyes once more he saw the room wasn't really all that bright. A single shaft of light slipped through the curtains. It was later than he normally woke up. Perhaps that was why he felt so lazy. His eyes tracked dust particles that danced in the light shaft.

He was sore. His back ached from the change in weight. His ass ached too. He couldn't help the smile from spreading across his face at the memory. His cock liked the memory too. 

He turned to look at Steve. Even now after the serum he looked so peaceful in sleep. An idea had only half formed in his mind as he reached out to run his hand down Steve's stomach. His fingers circled the other man's cock. Steve was hard enough to pound nails. He smirked. Still got morning wood too then. 

It only took one pump of his hand for Steve's eyes to snap open. “Fuck!” Steve said somehow managing to sound shocked as his hips thrust forward. 

“Morning Stevie.” He said with a grin. 

“Jesus Buck.” Steve's hand caught his wrist as Steve rolled to kiss him. Morning breath kisses were not his favorite but based on Steve's movements they would be quickly moving to a favorite so he endured without complaint. Steve seemed to notice as he broke away. Steve's hand continued to hold is wrist as the other man took several long breaths before speaking. “You're an ass.” 

He laughed at the combination of surprise and sincerity in the other man's tone. “Love you too.”

Steve blinked, pulling in another long breath before releasing his wrist to rub at Steve's still sleep filled eyes. He took advantage of the freedom by reaching back between them. Steve caught him before his hand could reach his target strong fingers tightening back around his wrist. He pouted.

“I am not awake enough yet.” Steve admitted. “How you wanting this to go cause I'm pretty sure your ass is too sore for round two already.” 

He considered. Before the serum that definitely would have been true but honestly he felt fine. It also sounded like Steve was giving him a chance to fuck Steve. Still, Steve had always enjoyed being on top which had suited him fine. He much preferred to top women. Was that even something he still wanted? He couldn't imagine trying to be with anyone but Steve anymore. 

“Buck?” Steve's voice pulled him out of his mind. How long had he been thinking? 

“My ass is fine but if you're offering.” He winked. Steve's eyes rolled but then Steve rolled onto his stomach, head on his arms. He grinned and moved to follow.

He ran his right hand over Steve's back. His fingers lazily found scars and muscles to trace. This was where the differences been their childhood and now were so different. It felt like less than 5 years ago since he'd been looking at a very different Steve. 

Steve didn't seem to mind the lazy attention. He knew Stevie will enough to know first thing in the morning, he'd be on a hair trigger. Giving him time to breathe was probably appreciated. 

“How long has it been Stevie?” 

He'd intended it to be a rhetorical question but Steve bit out “1943” with enough conviction he had to wonder if the other man really remembered that accurately. Was it strange if he didn't? He pushed the thoughts away before they could gain traction.

He asked running a finger down Steve's spine and down between the mounds of Steve's ass. His finger barely brushed across Steve's asshole but it was enough for the other man to grunt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. “Poor Stevie.” He said teasingly. “You can't already be close?”

“Fuck you.” Steve grumbled.

“You came twice last night.” He said, returning his hand to Steve's asshole to rub it feather light with his finger. 

“It's been a long time.” He could hear just a whisper of embarrassment in Steve's tone. He popped the cap on the lube. With difficulty he held the bottle between his thumb and ring finger. He managed to get most of the lube onto his fingers and not the sheets. He considered grabbing a towel but decided against it. They could wash the sheets.

He pressed his middle finger against Steve's ass and pressed in. His eyes dropped closed. He'd forgotten just how hot and tight Steve felt. He was distantly aware he was telling Steve just that but he focused on the slow slide of his finger. 

He stopped as the first knuckle on his finger slipped in then began to fuck him with short quick thrusts. He'd have to be quick as worked up as Steve already was but he still wanted to follow the other man's preferences. He wondered if they changed over the years. If the noises slipping through Steve's lips were any indication, they had not.

Slowly he deepened the thrusts with his finger until he was fully set in. He doesn't take nearly as long working the second finger in. Steve is an almost constant source of noise as he works. As soon as both fingers are fully in Steve demanded, “No more fingers.” 

He couldn't help but chuckle as he sat up. “Roll over.” He said, patting Steve's leg. Steve grabbed his pillow and flopped on his back, pillow under his hips. 

He grabbed the lube, relieved he'd left the cap popped. He squeezed a bit of the cold liquid onto his cock, rubbing it in. He squeezed the base and took a deep breath before lining up and pressing into Steve. The heat and pressure were intense enough to almost be overwhelming. He immediately remembered why this wasn't his preferred position. 

He began the short sharp thrusts Steve preferred when being fucked open. Forcing his eyes open in spite of the overwhelming sensation he watched Steve's face. Steve's head was turned to the side. Steve's eyes closed as his body reconciled the invasion. 

Finally all the way in he paused to breath. Steve's eyes met his. Steve's pupils were blown wide, his lips were parted. His face and chest we flushed. Steve's cock was red and pressed against his stomach. Precum pooled on his stomach. “Still too much?” Steve asked quietly.

“Guess some things don't change.” He said with a smile.

“Gonna have to hurry then. Dunno how long I can hold back.” Steve's eyes continued to hold his.

He reached between them and wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the base of Steve's cock. Steve glared at him though there was no heat in the look. Squeezing firmly he began to find a rhythm. It was an awkward angle. He released Steve's cock and dropped forward to let his right palm rest on Steve's collar bone with his fingers curling to grab Steve's shoulder. The leverage helped.

The first few thrusts felt good enough but quickly the sensation built from barrable to overwhelming once more. In spite of his raw nerves he could feel pressure building. He forced himself to focus on the sensation. 

He came with a shout, the pain and pleasure too mixed to determine which he felt more. Only the hand on Steve's chest kept him from overbalancing. Steve's hand snaked been them and with a few tugs Steve's ass tightened around him as he came too. That was definitely too much. He pulled out. 

Steve's chest and abs spasmed as the last few spurts of come dappled Steve's chest. 

He let himself drop into the sheets his eyes closed. Everything feeling heavy. Steve's lips on his made him jump but he immediately settled into the contact. “Definitely not again any time soon.” He mumbled once Steve pulled back. 

“That's fair.” Steve said before pulling him in for another kiss. “Gonna come shower with me?” 

“Just gonna rinse off and see if they need anything down stairs.” 

Steve nodded and stood, heading for the bathroom. He followed. Once he was clean, he returned to the bedroom. He grabbed clothes and tossed them on the bed. Picking up his boxers first he leaned against the wall to balance as he stepped in. It took a moment to get them pulled up comfortably. His stomach was knotting up, the sick feeling from yesterday returning. He pushed it away. 

He picked up his shirt and took a deep breath. Carefully he managed to angle it over his head then get his right arm in. His stump of a left arm took much more work to angle properly. 

He paused, looking at the jeans he had pulled out. Trying to fasten them would be something he wasn't sure he could manage one handed. He considered going back for sweatpants instead but that seemed to make the knot in his stomach worse so he pushed aside that idea.

Grabbing the jeans he pushed his shoulder into the wall and stepped in with one leg. Pulling them up a bit he then stepped in with his other leg and began to pull them up. It took several minutes to get them up around his waist. He pulled the zipper up then looked back at the button.

The bathroom door opened and his heart began to hammer. It was just Steve, he knew it was just Steve but that didn't stop the fresh roll of sickness. He hated this. Hated being unable to manage even easy tasks quickly.

Steve walked out still drying off from his shower. How long had he been working on this? Just fucking getting dressed. “Hey Buck.” Steve smiled at him. He didn't try to do anything for him or even offer to help but somehow that made the knot ease just a little. He took a breath and focused back in the button. 

Steve was fully dressed by the time he managed to get the button completed. “Want to stay for breakfast?” Steve asked.

“I'll make sure they don't need me then I'll come back up.” He said, pressing a kiss into Steve's lips before heading for the elevator.

He was surprised when a wave of music rolled over him as he stepped into Tony's lab. Tony was alone at one of the work benches.

As he stepped off the elevator Tony saw him and gestured for Jarvis to kill the music. The sudden change from deafening sound to defending quiet made his head spin and he paused for a moment. “Hey! I'm surprised you're alone.” He said crossing the room.

“Yeah. One of the few benefits of working with teens, no early working hours. How are you this morning.” Tony opened his arms and he moved easily into the hug. “Nevermind.” Tony laughed stepping out if the hug. “I know exactly how your morning went.”

A roll of nausea hit him as he imagined Tony watching him try to figure out how to get dressed. Jarvis  _ did _ record everything. “What do you mean?” he asked, not fully sure he wanted the answer.

“You stink like sex!” Tony said his tone accusatory. 

“I...oh.” he said, joining Tony as he started laughing again.

“Guess that means I don't need to ask how you are handling everything of the two of you managed to have sex this morning.”

“And last night.” He said without thinking.

“Should I talk to Cap about taking advantage of you after a medical procedure?” Tony asked, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Fuck you.” He said. “Honestly I thought I was calling his bluff last night. I didn't think he'd actually…. Not while I was like this.” He said.

Tony smiled. “Seriously though, how are you doing?” 

His immediate response was to lie, tell Tony he was doing fine but he stopped. “It's… I'm ready to have my new arm.” He said honestly. Pushing his hand through his hair, “I hated that arm. For decades I wanted nothing more than for it to be gone and now I'm freaking out without it. I'm just fucked in the head I guess.”

Tony's hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Hey. All that makes sense. You didn't want that arm and they forced it on you. Wanting it gone makes sense but at the same time being one armed sucks. My left arm has taken a lot of hits and I've had it in a sling more times than I'd care to admit and even that is a bitch. I can't imagine just not having it.”

He frowned. “What'd you do to your arm to have it in a sling?” 

Tony smirked, “You want recent or ever cause when I was twelve I-”

“Tony.” He said raising an eyebrow. Tony laughed.

“Fine. Fine. In the very early days after I made the suit, mark three I think? I took a tank round to my left arm. Then a few months after I used it to catch an arc powered electric whip and--”

“A what?” He asked, cutting across Tony.

Tony waved a hand dismissively, “It was all over the news I'm sure you can still find footage. Anyway, after that it's always been a bit numb and I had to have a sling for awhile.”

“Gotta learn to guard your left Tony.” He said with a smirk.

“Oh it's intentional.” Tony held up his hand. “Right handed. More important to keep this one working. Speaking of working, I've been drawing some prototypes.” Tony moved back towards the bench he'd been sitting at.

He recognized the intentional shift in the conversation. Tony didn't like talking about the pain in his left arm. That was fair. He let it slide and followed Tony to the bench. “You didn't sleep did you?” He asked, knowing Tony better than to expect an answer. Eight completed drawings were spread across the table. Tony pulled them all into a stack.

“So this is nearly identical to your original, just with the modified inner workings.” Tony said. He leaned closer, bumping shoulders with Tony to look. Honestly it was past nearly identical. He couldn't find anything external to make it different from what he'd had. Tony waited till he'd nodded before moving the paper to rest back on the bench.

“This one,” Tony indicated the next page, “is the farthest from what you have now.” The design was more robot than human. It was clearly built for strength and functionally and not much else. It was far thinner than a normal arm, maybe a few inches in diameter. He shook his head immediately. It was far too similar to the metal bar Hydra had first grafted to his arm after the fall. Tony slid the paper onto the floor without any signs it upset him. 

“This is fairly similar to some of the tech I have in one of the suits.” Tony said. This one was back to arm shaped but obviously incorporated armor as well. It wasn't an immediate no like the other.

He nodded. “Hopefully I won't ever need armor.” Tony nodded and the design joined the original on the table.

“This one I was thinking more of for later. It uses a flesh like plastic to mimic a normal arm. This is one built for the power your arm will have but it can be modified for mass production easily.” 

The drawing might as well be of his right arm if it were not for the metal and wires underneath the flesh. “The thought I'll be able to interchange these is really unsettling.” He admitted before he had too long to think about it. 

Tony nodded. “Yeah. After so many years with it welded on.”

“Keep that one. Maybe I can use it when I'm out and around.” He said before rubbing his face. His hand settled over his mouth. Just as the night before when Steve had done in, a roll of calm settled over his nerves. 

Tony moved the normal looking arm to the keep pile. “This,” Tony looked over at him and stopped. “You ok?”

He dropped his hand. “Yeah. Go ahead.” Tony's eyes held his a moment before turning back.

“This is basically a rework of one of the suits arms.” The arm not only had armor but a small gun built in. He  _ really _ hoped nothing ever came to that. He couldn't imagine shooting anyone now. The sight of blood, light fading from their eyes.

“Keep it.” He said in what he'd hoped was a nonchalant tone. Tony's face showed he hadn't quite managed it. “Don't want you getting rusty without enough stuff to build.” Tony didn't look away from him.

“If this gets to be too much-”

“I'm fine Tony. Really. I'll let you know ok?” Tony nodded. The paper was added to the bench. 

The next sheet Tony dropped to the floor before he'd even had a chance to look. “It's almost the same as the other. You won't like it.

“I'll judge that.” He said. Tony picked the paper back up. He wasn't wrong. It wasn't anything he'd want. The really thin parts were a bit thicker but otherwise it was identical. When he shook his head Tony dropped the paper back to the floor. To Tony's credit he didn't make any snarky comments as he did.

“This one is an oddball. Rather than regular vibranium, this uses a vibranium skeleton with vibranium cloth pulled over it. I'm not sure how strong it would be. Didn't figure it's one you'd like but it something I want to play around with.”

“Yeah, I think I'd like something a bit more solid.” Tony nodded but the page made the bench anyway.

“And this was what I was working on when you came in. It's basically my updates to the original design. It streamlines the plates, allowing for easier and pain free removal. It also more accurately models of the size and muscle structure of your right arm.”

“You been checking out my arms Tony?” He said, flashing an easy grin.

“Not just your arms.” Tony said with a wink and then as if nothing had been said, continued “I strengthen the internal structure to prevent damage even during crushing pressure.”

He studied the drawing. It looked mostly done, Tony had obviously been working on the fingers when he came in. Out of all of them it was easily his favorite. And Tony hadn't been wrong, it looked almost identical to his right arm in size and shape. “The plates look different.”

Tony nodded. “I streamlined them down to lay more naturally. They can still lift as needed but it is a much smaller lift, less than an eighth of an inch.” Tony held up a ruler, showing him the amount.

“So…How would you take the plates off?” He asked.

“It would be a release sequence rather than release screws. It's something I hope to implement in my suits at some point.” 

“Sequence?”

“Right. So you will tap in certain areas to trigger the plates to release. Each one will be different so you still have that security.”

He nodded. “I like it Tony.”

He caught the quickest flash of relief on Tony's face before it was schooled into his normal look of confidence. “I'll let the kids work on it some too. I mainly just wanted to get ideas on paper.”

“Hey since the kids aren't up yet, you want to come have breakfast? Stevie is cooking and there is always way too much.”

Tony made a face. “You sure  _ Stevie _ would want me there?” He asked, putting special emphasis on Steve's name.

“With everything you're doing for me if he does care he can get over it.” He said easily.

“You sure? Don't want to cause trouble in paradise after you two finally start fucking.”

He couldn't stop the bubble of laughter. “I'm sure, come on.” He said.

“Just in case, J could you alert him I'm coming up?” Tony said. At his look Tony folded his arms. “What? It's only fair to warn him in cause he's cooking nude or something equally disturbing I don't want to see.” 

He was laughing again. Bumping shoulders with Tony as they began to walk for the elevator. “What are you saying Tony? I'm the only fella you're checking out around here?”

“Hey I can fix your arm. I can't fix your taste in men. Also who the fuck still says fella?”

He opened his mouth to reply but the elevator doors opened and Tony stepped into the apartment and began speaking again. “Steve! I thought you were taking care of teaching Bucky terms from this millenia!” Tony said.

Steve turned a look of confusion on his face. “I said fella. It apparently broke Tony's feeble mind. He needs food so he can follow basic sentences.”

Steve laughed. “I'm still cooking. Go sit I'll let you know.” 

Tony moved into the living room and dropped onto a couch but he crossed into the kitchen. He pulled Steve in for a kiss. Steve smiled against his lips. He could feel the heat of Tony's eyes on them. He knew Tony didn't care but his pulse still jumped knowing they were being watched. When they broke apart and he turned into the living room Tony was watching the light as it filtered through the living room curtains. Pup had taken up residence bodily leaning into Tony's side and he'd dropped an arm around her and was petting her without looking.

He dropped to the couch across from Tony. “So how would the sequence work? Would there be buttons or…?” He trailed off.

“Not like how you're thinking of buttons. It would be like” Tony paused to think. After a few moments Pup bumped him. He'd stopped petting her. He resumed running his hand over her fur. “More like how your phone is. Touch a certain area and something happens but with this you'd have to touch several places in the right order to execute the command. But it would be smooth like the phone, no obvious buttons to press.” 

He nodded. “You two plannin to share?” Steve asked from the kitchen.

“Nah.” He said easily flashing Tony a smile. He waited, listening until Steve huffed and turned back to the stove. “Tony drew up a lot of prototypes for my arm.” He said easily.

“Yeah?” Steve asked.

He looked at Tony, waiting for him to explain but Tony was staring right back at him. It became immediately clear Tony wanted him to explain. He considered refusing or saying something jokingly but Tony looked genuinely excited to hear him explain.

“The first one which is probably the main one I'll use,” he started turning to Steve, “is really similar to my old one but it's a better match for my right arm.” He watched Tony out of the corner of his eye. Tony's eyes closed and he leaned back against the couch, listening. The soft morning light filtering in through the windows seemed highlight the dark shadows under Tony's eyes. He wondered if Tony had slept at all the last few days. “The plates are a lot sleeker and fit tighter too. Tony was telling me how they'd use a sequence to unlock instead of screws.”

“The plates still move though?” Steve asked. He'd paused from his cooking to listen.

“Yeah. To vent heat or lock in for extra strength.”

He paused long enough to glance at Tony. If not for Tony's breathing he would have guessed the other man fell asleep. He had the whisper of a smile on his lips.

“You said that was the main one. So there are others?” Steve's question pulled his attention back.

“Yeah. There is one that will look just like skin so I can blend in when I want to. That one I'll probably use a lot too. And that's the kind we can mass produce later.” Steve nodded. He'd returned to cooking. “Then he made one with armor and one with a gun which I hope to never need to use.”

“I hope not too Buck.” Steve said quietly. “Ready to eat?” He asked.

Tony's eyes didn't immediately open. He was about to nudge the other man when Tony began to disentangle himself from Pup without opening his eyes. He watched Tony as the other man stood. Now that he was really looking it was easy to see the droop in Tony's shoulders and the tiredness in his bones. Tony definitely hadn't slept recently.

He stood and moved to the table which Steve had piled high with food. Between the fact they both need more calories after the serum and the fact they could actually afford it now Steve always seemed to overcook.

Tony sat at one of the empty plates at the table, letting he and Steve sit side by side. Tony grabbed a variety of fruits as well as toast and a few pieces of bacon and settled in to eat. It was strange seeing Tony so subdued. He focused on filling his own plate.

“So when will the new arm be finished?” Steve asked after several moments of quiet as they ate.

He saw the muscles in Tony's arm twitch as though Steve had pulled him from his thoughts. “The first one? A few days at most.” Tony said. “The kids need the look over everything, make sure their parts and components work. After that it's all easy, working with materials we are all familiar with. The second one will take longer. The formula for the ‘skin’ will need developed.”

Steve nodded. “The kids haven't seen the drawings yet?”

“Tony did them overnight. The kids are asleep. I guess it's normal for teenagers to sleep in.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah that's a luxury we never had huh?”

“Not if we thought we wanted to eat too.” He agreed. “Sleep, school, work, sleep.” 

“ _ Sex.” _ Tony mumbled under his breath. He pushed Tony. “What?” Tony said laughing.

Steve ignored them both. “Jarvis, when they do wake up send the kids our way and they can eat too.” Steve said. 

“How much work will have to be done to go into mass production of the natural arm?” He asked Tony.

“It shouldn't be too long. The connection point will be the biggest challenge. Most people don't have a bundle of false nerves just waiting to be tapped into. Shuri is here as long as we need and I can always pull Peter out of school for another week.”

“The school is ok with you taking him out for that long?” Steve asked, his eyebrows raised.

“I have internships set with most of the schools in New York. I can pull kids out as long as I provide documentation on what we worked on. Sending Peter back with a prosthetic and proof of a charity with his name on the founders list should be more than enough.”

“Oh, Bucky.” Steve said suddenly. “I was thinking if the natural prosthetic is done, or honestly even if it isn't, maybe you could spread the word about your charity on veteran's day. There is a big parade then there's a dinner I help with at the VA office. You wouldn't have to do the parade part if you didn't want to of course but at the benefit after maybe?” 

He smiled. “Sure Stevie that sounds great.” He glanced at Tony who had finished eating and was now sneaking Pup scraps from the table. “Come on Tony.” He said and Tony jumped, dropping the piece of sausage he'd been slipping to Pup. She caught it before it hit the floor.

Tony stood. “Come on where? We going to bed?” He winked. Steve made a noise in his throat but he ignored it.

“You are. Come on.” He turned Tony and pushed him towards the hall. 

“Fuck off. I'm fine.” Tony pushed back against him. 

It wasn't a hard push but it was still enough to throw him off balance. His hand released Tony's arm to catch the chair he'd just left. Tony spun, reaching as if to catch him but his hands stopped short of actually touching. He held the chair for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the muscle in Steve's jaw twitch. 

“Come on Tony.” He said, pushing himself back to standing. His right hand landed back on Tony's shoulder and he pushed again. Tony didn't push back or fight as he was guided down the hall. At the end of the hall he stepped around Tony and opened the door to his now disused bedroom. “Take Pup and sleep Tony. I'll wake you up when the kids are done eating ok?”

Tony stood still and began to speak his words coming tight and quick “I don't need sleep. I'm not tired. I-”

“J, how long has it been?” He asked.

“Mr. Stark has been awake thirt-”

“Mute!” 

“Bed.” He said again. “Pup will stay with you. She likes to be close. You won't be alone.”

He could practically see Tony form and toss out at least a dozen replies before the other man's shoulders sagged. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I'm serious Tony. Sleep.”

Tony nodded. He clapped Tony's shoulder as Tony moved into the room. Pup darted between them and launched onto the bed her whole body wiggling.

He walked back down the hall and turned on the TV to give a gentle barrier of background noise. “You ok?” Steve asked, pulling him into a hug.

“Yeah. I caught myself. Everything's Jake.” 

Steve groaned into his shoulder. “Still hate that phrase.” 

“Oh yeah. I'll have to remember to use it more.”

“Fuck you.” Steve said before pressing a kiss into his forehead. “Should I be worried about you and Tony?”

“Nah. Just joking around. Bedsides I'm pretty sure I'm not his type.”

Steve's fingers moved to rest on his throat. “Still got a pulse. Pretty sure that's Tony's only requirement.”

“Oh? So what's that say about you cause it's pretty obvious he ain't into you. Is there something you're not telling me?” He reached out for Steve's neck but Steve batted his hand away. “I am worried about Tony though.”

Steve turned his head to look down the hall where Tony now slept. “Why?”

“Jarvis said he had been awake more then thirty hours and Tony isn't like us, no serum or anything, I'm worried he will make himself sick or worse.

“I wouldn't worry about Tony, Buck. He has bounced back from things no ordinary person could hope to bounce back from. I think there's something different in him even if it's not something that could really be tested.”

He frowned, letting Steve's words turn over in his mind. “Are you saying you think Howard did something?”

“No. No, I don't think Howard would have ever done anything like that to his child. But Howard was exposed to a lot when he helped make that serum. Howard was also in the habit of testing the untested on himself. If the serum was able to keep both of us alive after all these decades, who's to say part of it didn't remain in Howard and then pass to Tony?”

He turned to look down the hall as well. Would Tony even be aware if it if that was the case? Something Tony had mentioned floated back into his mind. “He said he caught an arc powered whip to the arm?”

Steve laughed, “Yeah I've only ever seen footage of that. I've seen far worse in person.”

“What do you mean?”

“When Loki came… Oh! You never watched all the footage did you? They sent a bomb to take out the aliens, it would have wiped New York off the map. Tony… Here. Jarvis?

Steve moved to the TV. “Jarvis, unmute.” He said. 

“Jarvis could you?” Video feed appeared before Steve finished the request. 

The recording buzzed into view. It appeared be to video taken from a plane if the way the picture rattled was any indication. Nat’s voice came through over what sounded like the scratch of a radio “Can anybody copy? I can shut the portal down.”

“Do it!” He recognized Steve's voice, still sounding like it was coming over comms.

“No, wait” Tony's voice was clear. The feed wasn't from a plane. It was from Tony's suit. This was the visual feed from Tony's suit during the battle.

“Stark these things are still coming.” Steve's voice again, frustrated.

“I've got a nuke coming and it's going to blow in less than a minute.” A tiny black dot was visible on the horizon just over the bridge. Tony stopped suddenly, the change in speed was jarring even over video. He shot straight up as the nuke flew overhead. Tony spun back towards the city following the nukes trail. “And I know just where to put it.”

With another jolt in the feed and the sound of metal on metal Tony grabbed the bomb pacing under it as buildings loomed closer.

“Stark.” Steve's voice again. “You know that's a one way trip.” 

“Save the rest for the turn J.” Tony said, ignoring Steve's words.

“Sir, shall I try Ms. Potts?” Jarvis’ voice was clear and quiet.

“Might as well.” Tony answered. 

Tony and the nuke threaded through the buildings. The sound of thrusters filled the video and the nuke began to climb. It passed just feet away from what was now their living room window up towards a black and blue circle in the sky.

Then in an instant the feed went from sunny and bright to pitch black. It took him a moment to realize Tony was in space. For a moment he forgot to watch what was actually happening in the feed, his eyes tracking across the vast space shown in the feed. Then the missile flew past Tony, towards a massive ship. The feed flashed white as the nuke made contact and the ship exploded. 

Tony was drifting. The video was silent. Then the feed snapped back to bright. The last second flash of blue before the sky closed up. Tony was in a freefall sky falling away as the video rolled on. 

A roar was the only warning before an impact suddenly stopped Tony's decent. Something had grabbed Tony and was slowing him down. Then he was on the ground, buildings loomed over him on either side. Then faces appeared. Green Bruce, Steve and Thor.

Thor's hand reached down and grabbed the camera then the feed went to static. He stared at the blank screen. Steve's idea that Tony wasn't totally normal felt suddenly more likely. “Hulk caught him before he could hit the ground but even that wasn't exactly gentle.”

“Hulk?” He asked, eyes still on the screen.

“Yeah, when Bruce gets all big? Has no one ever mentioned that?”

“I mean, I knew he got big and green but I didn't know the Hulk part.” Steve's fingers wove into his hair gently working out a few stray knots before pulling all together at the back of his head. “Might have you do that for the next few days.” 

“Yeah?” Steve sounded surprised.

“Keeps getting in my face when my hands, hand, is full.” 

“Sure Buck, I'll go grab something to pull it back with.” Steve slipped down the hall. He forced his eyes off the silent static on the screen. Somewhere deep under the horror of witnessing what Tony had experienced he felt a pang of jealousy. Space had always fascinated him. The idea that the stars were other planets floating in the vast darkness. 

Steve returned, the strip of leather from before in his hand. Steve gently moved to collect his hair. When his hands dropped away his hair remained bound.

“Thanks Stevie.” He turned and pulled Steve into a kiss.

As they pulled apart Jarvis spoke. “Mr. Parker and Ms. Shuri will be coming for breakfast. Mrs. Okoye has declined.”

“Thanks J.” Steve replied.

The elevator doors opened and a bleary-eyed Peter and Shuri wandered out.

“Morning.” He called.

“Morning” the two mumbled heading for the table.

“If there is something else you want let me know and I'll see what we have.” Steve said.

There was a mumble of understanding. Peter spotted the coffee and poured a cup for him and another for Shuri. As Peter turned back to the table Shuri spoke a single word in Wakandan. Peter paused, brow furrowed. He placed his own cup down and turned back to the coffee maker. Grabbing the creamer he returned to the table and passed both items to her. Peter must have guessed right because she smiled. Or had he guessed?

The two teens started eating in relative silence. As they nursed the coffees and ate they both seemed to wake up more. “Is Mr… Is Tony up already?” Peter asked.

“Yes and no.” He said. “He was up all night I think so he's taking a nap now.”

“How are you feeling today?” Shuri eyed his left arm.

“I'm ok.” 

“I need to run a few tests once you are ready.” She told him.

“Once Tony is up.” 

The room fell quiet again. When Shuri spoke it was again in Wakandan. Peter was watching her closely.

His heart began to pound. A feeling like ice ran through his chest. For a split second he was laying in the snow, voices in a language he couldn't understand drifted above him. He shook his head pulling himself back. They weren't speaking Russian. It shouldn't bother him. His left arm throbbed. Or rather the place were his left arm should be. The want to flex his left hand and soothe the ache was overwhelming. He pushed it away.

He had just managed to tone out Shuri's voice when Peter replied in slow poorly articulated Wakandan. Shuri laughed and repeated a word slowly and clearly. She was teaching him. From the sound of things Peter wasn't terrible at it either.

The two continued to speak intermittently as they ate. The painful cramping on his non-existent left arm continued. He tried rubbing the cap but it only seemed to increase the pain. His heart felt like it was making a bid to escape his chest. He needed to be able to fight, to protect himself. 

Closing his eyes he focused on running through the one armed combat drills. Hand to hand fighting came easy enough. They'd pit him against humans and occasionally animals with nothing but his hand or a knife. He could remember it clearly. 

But then they had given him a gun and all the steps seemed to be missing. How did he load the gun one handed? He felt himself breaking out in a thin sweat as he desperately dug through memories trying to find anything involving the use of a firearm but nothing came.

He wasn't exactly sure when he'd stood up but his name on Steve's lips brought him crashing back to their apartment. “I'm…going to…” his voice sounded thick as he tried to articulate while still crossing the room.

Steve looked torn between worry and trying to school his expression to not worry the kids. “Bucky where-”

The elevator doors cut off the rest of Steve's words. “Gun range.” He croaked out. 

He stepped off the elevator and leaned on the wall, forcing his lungs to pull in air. He crossed to his locker. Everything was as he'd left it the last time he'd come up. Picking up one of the guns he held it till the cool metal warmed under his fingers.

Moving before he could think too much he trapped the gun been his knees he released the magazine. It was empty. He reached into the locker and holding the magazine between his thumb and pinkie fingers he carefully lined the first bullet up and pressed it into the magazine. It took longer than he'd like to get the magazine fully loaded and back in the gun.

As he raised the gun the elevator doors opened. He aimed and took the first shot. It hit the target dead center. “Buck?” Steve sounded hesitant. “You ok?” The sound of the shot seemed to reverberate off the walls.

“Yeah. I. I just. I need to know I could.” He said quietly.

Steve nodded, “That's fair. You had all of us a bit worried.”

He turned back to the target. Blood poured from the bullet hole, staining the floor. The targets clothes were caked in it. The fire was burning closer. He needed to get the case and leave. The road was deserted enough but that didn't give him unlimited time. The target turned, empty dead eyes turning to him. Howard, a flash of recognition breaking through the pain on his face. His mouth opened.

“Buck!” The night sky was suddenly bright. He was in his knees on the bright clean floor. Before him the paper target stood, the single bullet hole visible even from this angle. Steve was next to him on the floor. He felt tired and weak. “Come on Buck. Let's go lay down.” Steve's voice was thick with worry. How long had it been since he'd lost awareness that badly?

He didn't remember the trip upstairs but suddenly Steve was easing him onto the couch and pulling a blanket over him. “Rest.” Steve command softly. His eyes closed and darkness swallowed him.

The sound of voices pulled him from dreamless sleep. Blinking he sat up. Tony and Steve stood next to the kitchen table. Steve looked worried, Tony's arms were crossed his expression calm.

“Feeling ok Buck?” Steve asked.

“Yeah Stevie, I'm ok.”

Tony leaned over and hissed at Steve, his voice barely above a whisper but still clear in the quiet room. “See? I told you. You baby him too much. He's not nearly as fra-”

“I've had enough of your opinions today Tony. I won't be needing any more. Thank you.” 

Tony pushed past Steve. “Ready to head downstairs? I think Shuri needed to check a few things.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his face. “Yeah. What time is it?” He asked, standing.

“About two. Do you want some lunch?” Steve asked. Worry was still clearly written on his face. 

“I'm ok Stevie. I promise.” He pressed a quick kiss into Steve's lips as he followed Tony to the elevator. “You feeling any better Tony?”

“Felt fine before, wasted a morning. But yeah. Thank you.”

“Are you and Pepp-”

“So I had some new ideas for the prototype.” Tony cut across him.

The tests Shuri need to run turned out to just be scans she needed. After that he sat and listened as Peter, Tony, and Shuri nailed down the designs Tony had started. 

While he'd planned to remain downstairs in case they need him by 8 he felt exhausted. No one seemed surprised when, by 8:15, he stood and made his way to the elevator. Tony promised to text if they had any questions.

Stepping into their apartment he saw Steve sitting on the couch a book in hand. “Hey Buck.” Steve smiled. “I didn't expect you for several more hours.

He crossed to stand in front of Steve, pulling the man into a hug. Steve buried his face against his stomach, arms moving up to wrap around his middle. “I was ready to see you.” He said honestly. He moved to thread a hand through Steve's hair. Steve sighed into his stomach. With a smile he began to massage against Steve's scalp like Steve did for him. 

Steve let out a quiet groan as he found a sore spot. “You hungry?” Steve asked when he finally managed to work out all the knots he could find.

“Honestly I'd rather just go relax in bed.” Steve smiled. 

“Sure Buck.” Steve gained his feet gently bumping him to move. He followed Steve down the hall. Undressing one handed was so much easier than getting dressed.

As soon as he'd dropped onto bed Steve pulled him until they lay back to front, Steve's nose tucked behind his shoulder and Steve's arm around his waist. He relaxed easily into the familiar position. Steve's fingers traced absently on his stomach. “Remember spending all winter like this?” He asked.

He could feel Steve smile against his back. “Then the first hot day you still curled up with me in bed. I was so excited but I didn't want to say anything cause I thought you only liked me as a friend. “

He laughed. “I never thought of you as just a friend. Not after that time I caught you in your room.”

Steve groaned and buried his face in his hair. 

“How old were you then? Eleven? Twelve?”

“‘Leven” Steve mumbled into his hair.

“It was to a picture too, wasn't it? Horny little Stevie rubbing one out to his drawings.”

“You were supposed to be at work!” Steve grumbled indignantly. He laughed.

“Got better at hiding it after that didn't you? Didn't catch you again till we got the apartment. Then the walls were so thin it wasn't really catching anything so much as being completely aware at all times. What was that picture you were looking at Stevie?”

“Fuck off.” He mumbled. He couldn't help but laugh. “Caught you too, that time at your house.” 

“That wasn't exactly catching me. I knew you were there.” He smirked at the memory. Mom and the girls were going to be out all morning shopping. Having the house to yourself at thirteenth was the best gift you could get. He'd pulled the curtains and stretched out on the couch. He'd already been close when he heard the front door. He'd almost panicked but the fact a wall of chattering voices didn't follow the click of the lock told him it wasn't his family. Plus he recognized the footsteps. Steve had stepped into the room. He would never forgot how fast that pale skin had gone blood red. He had caught those bright eyes as held them as he finished. 

By the time his brain had caught up Steve had booked it. He'd cleaned up and crossed the street and they'd gone to the park and hung out like nothing had happened.

“Hey Buck?” Steve's voice broke into his memories.

“Hmm?”

“Think I could draw you again sometime?”

He rolled under Steve's arm so they we face to face. “I don't know Stevie. Remember what happened last time I  _ knew _ you were drawing me?” Steve had posed him and maybe gotten the outline before the need to move had gotten to him. When he'd caught sight of Steve getting hard under his sketchbook he'd crawled over and sucked Steve off he doubted the picture ever got finished. “Be better at holding still now. I'm sure it would be ok.” 

He pressed a kiss into Steve's lips. He'd only meant for it to be a quick gentle kiss but his body seemed to have other ideas as he pressed into Steve. Steve's hand moved up to catch his hair as his lips parted. He groaned into Steve's mouth. He could feel the edges of Steve's lips turn up. “Now who gets going too easy?” Steve purred before pulling him back into the kiss. 

He snaked a hand been them to grab Steve through his boxers. Steve was already just as hard as he was. Trying to give him shit. Steve's hand dropped from his neck to pull gently at his boxers. He raised his hips as much as he could at that angle and Steve pulled them down to his thighs. Steve's hand wrapped around him, giving him a few quick strokes before moving to remove his own boxers. 

Steve pushed gently on his chest until he rolled into his back. Steve straddled his waist, lining up their cocks. “Not sure if I should be offended that you got bigger from the serum 'n I didn't.” He said, wrapping his hand around them both. His fingers didn't make it the whole way around but the friction was enough that his hips jerked involuntarily.

Steve laughed and curled forward for a kiss. Stretching Steve opened the bedside table. “If your going to do that at least use some lube. I still don't like that much friction.” 

He briefly considered asking Steve to fuck him again but he really didn't want to have to wash up. He took the bottle which Steve had already opened and slicked his hand. Wrapping his hand back around them Steve immediately started moving. Between the pressure of his hand and the friction of Steve humping into him he already felt heat starting to build in his abdomen. 

He wished his left arm was done. He loved to let his fingers roam over Steve's body when they did this. He let his eyes explore instead. Steve's arms braced on the headboard, muscles corded as he used the leverage to thrust into his hand with increasing urgency. Steve's head was tipped back but the parts he could see were flushed pink. 

His eyes traced the new muscles of Steve's chest. Steve's nipples were hardened nubs. His left arm practically ached to pinch them. He knew just the right time and just how hard to squeeze to send Steve crashing over the edge.

“Fuck Stevie.” His head dropped back to the pillows as the pressure began to build to a single bright point.

“Yeah Buck. Yeah. So close.” Steve's voice was tight and gravely above him. The break in rhythm and the throb of Steve's dick against his own was the only warning he got before a rope of come landed in his chest. Steve let out a broken moan. The sound sent him over the edge. As Steve's hips stilled his hand wrung the last few spasms of pleasure from them both.

Steve dropped down to press a breathless kiss into his mouth. He groaned and pushed Steve off as Steve's chest smeared their cum over him. Steve chuckled. “Be right back.” 

He closed his eyes as Steve slipped to the bathroom presumably for a towel. Heaviness was settling over his mind. He must have dozed because the warmth of the damp towel on his chest made him jump. “Shh.” Steve murmured as Steve worked to clean him off. He settled, enjoying the attention. Steve cleaned his chest before cleaning the lube away from his spent dick. 

He rolled to his own side of the bed as Steve tossed the towel in the laundry and returned to bed. “Love you.” Steve whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Love you too Stevie.” He mumbled as sleep rolled over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

November 4

He was standing before his eyes opened. His hands frantically swiped at the blood that covered his chest. He could hear movement nearby. They were coming to put him in the chair again, wipe his mind. He had to get the blood off he needed to run.

Blinking the bedroom floor came into view. Not in Russia. New York. Stark Tower. His hand slowed and stopped. His left arm fell back to his side. No blood. 

The memory of the first time he'd broken programming on a mission continued to press against his eyes. Crossing the room he yanked on sweatpants with enough force and speed he almost fell over. Forcing his shaking hand to slow he leaned on the wall to finish pulling on his pants. Tank top was easier. He was still pulling the stump through as he stepped into the elevator. “Tony up?”

Instead of answering the elevator moved. Tony must have muted Jarvis. He bounced on the balls of his feet trying without success to push down the memory. A roll of music hit as he stepped into the lab effectively drowning at least some of the persistent thoughts.

He got four steps into the lab when the music went silent. It was dark. He blinked. The woman lay at his feet. Why was he still standing there? He had to run. The blood, he'd been getting the blood off. He meant to look at his chest, see if he could run without drawing attention but his eyes dropped to the woman's body. So quiet now. Interrogate target for information on her husband. She didn't know, she'd begged and screamed and cried but she had no information. When the order came through the come he'd lifted the gun and…A hand dropped on his shoulder. They had caught him. He could have run. He couldn't forget this, couldn't go back to the chair. He had to remember, what he'd done.

“Bucky!” He jerked so hard he almost fell. Bright lights and a white floor. Hydra? No. Tony's lab. “Hey, Bucky!” Tony's voice. Tony's hand. He tried to answer but bile climbed in his throat and he gagged. “Dum E, get a bucket or something!” Tony called into the quiet. “Are you hearing me?” Tony's voice was softer again and closer. He nodded. “Think you can move to sit down?” Nod. Tony guided him towards to couch. Every time he blinked he could see her face.

Tony helped him sit, and passed a bucket to him. “You're ok.” Tony's hand rubbed over his shoulder and across his back. “Do you need me to call Steve?” He shook his head. Steve dealt with enough. He wasn't going to push this on Steve too.

“Needs sleep, unlike us.” He managed past the nausea. 

“Holy fuck you scared me.” Tony said, relief clear in his tone. “Are you ok?”

He closed his eyes and the image popped back clear as if he still stood over her motionless body. His eyes snapped open and he shook his head.

“If you get where you feel up to it, I'm here if you need to talk ok?”

He nodded, shifting till some of his weight rested against Tony's side. “Getting worse.” He mumbled after a long silence.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tony nod. “How long has it been getting worse?”

“S’ morning.”

“It's understandable. The change in your arm, and not having it now are both highly stressful. It stands to reason your PTSD would spike. Did anything happen this morning?”

The morning felt like a lifetime ago. He and Steve had sex, had that been the morning? Yes. He'd gone to see Tony. They'd eaten. Then… “Shuri was talking to Peter.” 

“Okay?” Tony was waiting he didn't understand.

“She. I couldn't understand what she was saying.”

“So she was talking but you couldn't comprehend?”

Oh. He wasn't there. “Her language. Wakanann?”

“That makes more sense. So she was speaking in another language you didn't understand which historically hasn't had a good outcome for you. Then what happened?”

“I realized I couldn't remember how to load or shoot one handed. I went to the range. I got the gun loaded, hit the target. Steve showed up.” He had to stop as a wave of nausea threatened to finally push whatever was left out of his stomach. Tony rubbed his neck.

“So you hear a language you don't understand and panic. Then in that panic you decide to go shooting.”

“Steve came.” He forced out. Tony barely had time to pull the hair that had come free out of the way before he vomited. 

“Dum E, rubber band, size 31” he heard the robot beep confirmation. Tony's hand rubbed over his back. “Deep breaths.” 

He learned back, setting the bucket on the floor to get the smell away from him. The soft whir of servos announced the robots return with the rubber band.

Tony gently pulled the leather cord out if his hair and passed it to him. He went still as Tony began to carefully work the knots out of his hair. “I talked to Steve and when I looked back the target was bleeding and then I was standing next to-” his mouth snapped shut. Tony knew he'd killed Howard but it wasn't something he was keen on bringing up. “A target I'd killed. It was like I was there. I could see and smell and hear everything.”

“Flashback.” Tony said. “After that did anything else happen until just now?” 

“No. Well, I mean a nightmare but that's. Yeah.” He said after starting to shake his head and stopping. He didn't want Tony to stop brushing his hair. 

“And now? Same..target?”

Tony knew. He had to. He'd never hesitate like that over nothing. “No. A woman. The only time I ever broke programming on a mission.”

Tony's hand did stop then, pulling all the hair together and wrapping the rubber band and it. “You broke programming? I never knew and it sure wasn't in the files.”

“I don't think they wanted anyone to know. The wipe after it wasn't in the books. Zola wasn't there for it but he was for all the others.”

“Any idea what made this time different? Shit. No. Don't answer that. None of my business.”

A roll of sickness washed over him but he managed to hold back. “She was pregnant.” He wasn't sure if it was loud enough for Tony to even hear. In an instant the nausea turned to ice in his stomach and tears spilled from his eyes. He let Tony pull him back and into Tony's side. “T..t..told m..myself wouldn't f...for...forget.” 

“Shh. It's ok just breath. We can talk more in a bit.” Tony's hands rubbed over his back. “I know you said no but I'm goin to call Steve ok? I think you really need him right now.” He nodded.

He wasn't exactly sure what Tony had told Jarvis but it felt like seconds before another weight dropped next to him on the couch and Steve was peeling him off Tony. His right hand wrapped around Steve's shirt like a life raft. He could distantly hear them talking could feel Tony's hand still on his back. The tears were slowing and everything felt heavy. 

He blinked. His whole body hurt and he was warm, almost too warm. He shifted. “Hey Buck.” The voice rumbled from under his head. Steve. He blinked again, sitting up enough to tip his head back. He was tucked into Steve's side, face resting on the other man's ribs. 

“Time's it?” He asked his throat felt raw. Steve looked up over the top of his head. 

“8:20” Tony's voice answered from behind him. His stomach cramped as memories of earlier filtered back into his mind. 

“M'sorry woke you up.” He said letting his head drop back into Steve's side. 

“Buck I know I can't help with everything and that coming down here helps you cope but if things are that bad you  _ need _ to wake me up, ok?” 

No. He didn't want to wake Steve up. Steve dealt with enough he shouldn't have to lose sleep too.

He must have waited to long to because Tony spoke. “If it's this bad again I'm going to call him. We all want to help you Bucky but you have to let us and that means using everyone here in any way possible.”

He remained still. He could hear the warm beat of Steve's heart under his ear. “I was better.” He finally grumbled at Steve's ribs.

Steve spoke, the sound drowning the thump of his heart. “You are going through several high stress things all at once it's-”

“Hearing another language shouldn't be high stress!” He snapped head coming up off Steve's side.

“Bucky. Triggers, things that cause flashbacks, sometimes they are easy to understand but sometimes they aren't. Doesn't make them any less real.” Tony's voice sounded serious. He let his head drop back against Steve. 

Closing his eyes to block out the world he spoke softly, “I tried so hard to remember. But they took it away just like everything else.”

Steve was quiet a moment. His fingers traced up and down his spine. “I know Buck. But you didn't forget, not really, or we wouldn't be having this conversation now.”

He didn't like that he'd forgotten at all. Didn't matter now. He knew what Hydra was, knew how they'd used him. She'd been a nice woman too. She'd spoken to him kindly before she realized he was not only the jailer but the executioner. He hugged Steve tight. Steve's arms wrapped around him, returning the squeeze. 

He sat up. Tony was sitting so close their shoulders bumped as he sat. Tony didn't move to make room so he leaned on him. Bringing his right hand to his face he scrubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes. Steve stood. “Let's go get you cleaned up and I'll make breakfast.” Steve said turning to face where he still sat on the couch. “Tony you want to eat with us again today?” He looked over at Tony. Tony looked as surprised as he felt but Tony recovered quicker.

“I. Yeah that's fine.”

“You go ahead Stevie. I need to talk to Tony real quick.”

“Sure Buck.” Steve stepped forward, bracing a hand on his knee, and leaned in for a kiss. While he wasn't exactly keen on kissing anyone with morning after pulling breath if Steve noticed he didn't comment. In spite of everything kissing Steve knowing someone sat literally pressed against his shoulder set his heart pounding.

The elevator doors had barely pressed closed when Tony spoke, “You doing ok?” Tony's hand caught the back of his neck and squeezed. “You scared the fuck out of me last night.”

“I'm…okay.” He said, not able or particularly interested in trying to articulate how he was feeling. “Sorry to freak you out. And thank you. For calling Steve I mean.” 

“Yeah.” Tony said.

“Did you two do ok just sitting here while I passed out.” 

“Yeah it was fine. We might not agree on much but we can handle being in the same room.”

“The way you were talking about flashbacks, you've had them before?” He could feel Tony tense next to him. He stayed tense and quiet so long he was about to apologize and head up for breakfast when Tony spoke.

“I have before. Still do...sometimes.”

“What about?” He asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his tone. This wasn't the kind of thing to get excited about, he knew that but still the idea he wasn't the only one. If Tony had them he would know how to make it stop. He would know how to fix it.

“After the New York attack, space.”

Before Tony finished speaking he was asking, “How did you make it stop? How did you fix it?” He knew he hadn't kept the excitement down that time.

Tony's eyes met his for a moment then dropped. Tony stood and paced away a few steps then back. Finally Tony ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Bucky it's not something you can just put a weld on and fix. You can recognize early warning signs and try to stop yourself or avoid things that may set it off but it's never really gone.”

His stomach fell. How the fuck was he supposed to avoid people speaking different languages? Just stay locked in the tower for the rest of his natural life? And what warning signs? He'd had no warning last night. It had come out of nowhere and hit him like a fucking truck. Standing he moved past Tony, pressing down there urge to punch the other man as he passed. He wasn't mad at Tony. Not really. He knew that. Tony followed.

Stepping off the elevator he left Tony and Steve in the living room while he went to get cleaned up. He paused as he stepped into the bathroom. The mirror had been replaced. When had Steve done that? Probably yesterday, he thought with a grimace as he realized he hadn't brushed his teeth before bed last night either. He brushed his teeth twice before turning on the warm spray of the shower.

He pulled the rubber band out of his hair and brushed his hair. It was crazy from the night before and tended to just knot when he tried to brush it wet. He stepped under the spray of the water. It was hot, a bit too hot, but he didn't correct the temperature. The heat from the water burned his skin pink. After he dried off as best he could he dressed, not bothering to try to do more than sweatpants and a tank top.

As he stepped into the hallway he heard Tony stop talking. His stomach churned. They'd been talking about him. He stalked into the living room and glared at the two men. Steve was putting food onto plates and Tony sat on the couch. “You two planning to tell me what the fuck you were talking about?” He snapped.

Tony looked surprised but Steve didn't look at all concerned at his anger. “I was telling Tony.” Steve began, moving a plate to the table, “that I was thinking about starting running again in the mornings and that I was planning to invite you. Tony said that anything involving getting up that early was a crime against nature and then you came out of the bathroom. We were not talking behind your back Buck. Everything is ok.”

Embarrassment balled in the pit of his stomach, trying to eat away the anger he'd felt. “Since when do you fucking run in the morning?” He snarled, not ready to give up on the fire in his chest just yet.

“I enjoy running. Didn't get to much as a kid.” Steve said with a wink. “I ran every morning right up till the day I got the call from Nat that you'd been found. After that helping you was more important.”

Why did he fuck up everything? The anger in his chest turned to ice. He dropped on the couch across from Tony and stared down at the carpet. It would have been easier on all of them if he'd not been found, not come back to the tower. He heard movement but wasn't sure whose hand began to gently rub on the back of his neck. He didn't deserve the attention with as much grief as he'd caused everyone but he couldn't stop himself leaning back into the touch like a lifeline.

“You two ready to eat?” Steve asked from behind him. He honestly felt more nauseous than hungry but stood when Tony did. Crossing to the table he dropped into the same chair he'd been in yesterday. As Steve and Tony both ate he picked at his food. He tried a bit of several things but it all just increased the feeling that he might throw up. If Steve or Tony noticed neither commented. 

As soon as Tony and Steve looked like they were done eating he spoke. “I'm going to go lay down for awhile.” 

“I'll get dishes done and then I'll be in too.” Steve said. He nodded. Moving down the hall he slid into their bedroom. He crawled into bed still fully dressed and pulled the sheets over him. A quiet emptiness had filled the spot where the anger had resided. He stared up at the sun shafts on the ceiling.

The door opened and Steve walked in. He could see Steve strip out of the corner of his eye. Steve's shadow momentarily blocked the sun shaft as he crossed the room to slip into bed next to him. “You think you're going to sleep?” Steve asked as he wrapped around him like a second blanket.

“No.” He said. He wasn't tired. He wasn't really anything.

Steve nodded. “I'm here if you need me Buck. Always.” Steve pressed a kiss into his chest.

November 7

He spent the next few days in bed or laying on the couch. He ate when Steve insisted but otherwise he lay still. He didn't want to think about his arm or Tony and the kids down in the lab working. Even the thought of the little girl who had made him want to start this in the first place seemed hollow. Steve told him as some point during the second day that he might be depressed. He knew he'd heard the term before but trying to dig in his mind and find it proved more than he cared to try.

His thoughts in general seemed to alternate between racing so fast he couldn't tell one from the other and so slow and quiet he couldn't be sure he was thinking at all. He preferred the quiet. Hours would past in moments as he stared straight ahead. 

“Come on Buck.” Steve's voice pulled him out of one such moment. When had Steve woken up? He was not only up but no longer in the bed. “We are going running.”

Somewhere under the cool emptiness in his chest he knew he liked running. Still the idea of having to get dressed, go outside. And what if someone spoke a language he didn't know? Would he freak out? Still it was the first thing Steve had asked of him in days outside eating. “Come on.” Steve's voice cut through his thoughts. “Come sit on the edge of the bed.”

That at least felt achievable. He sat and scooted to the edge of the bed. Steve's hand caught under his chin and tipped his head back. Steve kissed him gently. “Love you Stevie.” He said quietly. Had he said that recently? 

“Love you too Buck.” Steve's hands moved and a brush began to work through his hair. His eyes dropped shut. “Got you some real hair ties so we don't have to use rubber bands or leather.” Steve told him as he brushed the knots away. “Here. Hold it.” He took the thin band Steve offered. It has black and felt almost cloth like, with a band of rubber in the middle. Steve finished brushing his hair and held out his hand for the band.

“I don't feel like running Stevie.” He said quietly. The admission sent a wave of icy guilt through his chest.

“I know you don't Buck. But we are going to. Okay?” He nodded and passed the band to Steve.

Once his hair was pulled back, Steve pulled at the hem of his shirt until he lifted his right arm allowing the shirt to be pulled off. Steve tossed a shirt at him. He pulled it on without complaint. When Steve tossed him sweatpants too to stood and changed. He may not want to move but he wasn't incapable. Steve walked over again once he had the new pair of pants on. “Sit.” Steve said. His tone had the tiniest edge of an order to it. It was more than enough for him to drop to the bed without protest.

Steve sat on the ground in front of him and pulled socks over his feet. He could have managed to get them on himself but he was relieved he didn't have to try. The sneakers felt strange. It had been so long since he'd worn any shoes at all and when he'd needed to around the tower he'd just worn his boots. Steve tied the laces then turning to lean against the bed Steve pulled his own shoes on.

“Ready Buck?” Steve said offering a hand after he'd stood.

No. “Yeah.” He let himself be pulled up. 

“You will probably want a hoodie. It's pretty cold out.” Steve rummaged in the closet a moment before passing him one. He pulled it on. The left sleeve hung limp and strange against his side.

The elevator took them down to a floor he'd never been on. It looked like a loading dock. A truck was backed into a hole in the wall and a man was removing boxes. “Hey Steve!” The man called.

“Hey Jose.” The man was in his early twenties and had a happiness that seemed to reach every corner of the man's face. 

“Back to running?” He asked, turning to hoist another box.

“Yeah figured it was time.” Steve said smiling easily as he moved out a door and down the steps to the ground outside. He didn't try to introduce them but Jose didn't seem to care and he was fine with it.

Steve had understated the cold. It seemed to sap straight to his bones. “If you need to slow down or take a break, speak up.” Steve told him. That was the only warning he got before Steve broke into a jog. 

It took him several minutes to find his balance running but the pace Steve set was far from grueling and it wasn't long till he settled in matching Steve's stride.

The sun had not fully come up yet casting a soft golden pink light over the sidewalk as they ran. Even the birds seemed to just be waking up. He listened to their soft sounds as they ran. They didn't encounter many people. The few they saw paid them no attention as they jogged past. Still Steve was keeping them away from the most crowded streets too.

“I'm surprised no one has caught you doing this.” He said as they turned down an even less occupied street.

“Oh they have.” Steve said with a laugh. “But I change my path every time and most people who do notice are nice about it. Paparazzi is more Tony's issue than mine. There is a little family coffee shop down here that I visit a lot when I'm out and they are always very kind.”

He looked up, trying to determine how close ‘down here’ was but he couldn't see anything but homes. Steve's stride lengthened as they continued and he moved to match.

He had to admit it did feel good to be moving. He still felt hollow but maybe a bit less so. They continued in silence as the sun began to peek through the buildings occasionally catching them in the eyes as they moved between the shadows of the buildings. The sun warmed his skin through the hoodie.

Steve slowed outside a small shop. Bright white lettering on the stores windows advertised ‘Coffee’. He stepped inside. A woman who looked to be in her late sixties paused from sweeping. “Good morning I'll be with you in- oh my goodness Steve?” She set the broom down and bustled over. “Look at you! I was wondering if you were coming back. You can't just disappear like that! Worried my old heart.” She stretched up to pat his cheek and Steve beamed at her. “How have you been? And are you going to introduce me?” She looked over at him. Her eyes were slightly milky. 

“I've been good Mama.” Steve said with a smile. “This is Bucky. He's the one I told you about.”

She smiled. “My name is Martha but most people just call me Mama. I'm glad to finally meet you. Steve told me so much about you! When he said he was going to get you I was so happy for him but then he was gone so long I was worried something had happened.” 

“Nice to meet you Mama.” He said the name sounding strange on his tongue. But it made the tiny woman grin even wider.

“What can I get you boys today?” She asked, moving back behind the counter. “Steve you want the usual?” 

“Yes please. Large.” She smiled. Her eyes moved to him.

He glanced at the board behind her but the sheer number of options sent his mind spinning. “Same as Steve is fine.”

“Large as well?” 

“Yes please.”

“Martha grew up around the same time we did. She used to live a few houses down from the general store.” His eyes snapped back to the woman's face. It made sense of course are would have been the same age while they were children but the idea of it was still hard to process. 

She smiled. “I used to spend hours in that general store doing odd jobs for sweets. Then I would go down to the park and brag to everyone that my family was so well off they would buy me sweets whenever I wanted. I don't know if anyone believed me but it helped.” She looked up at him. “I was the youngest of six children but when I was five we lost three of my siblings to measles just one after the other. After that things changed. My father worked more and more hours but we had less and less money. I'm not sure if he was drinking or gambling it away.” She glanced between the two of them. “It's hard to not be jealous of you two, still so young. But I wouldn't trade for even a moment of the pain you both suffered to get here.” She passed them both their drinks. “Come back soon. It's always so nice to think back.”

“We will Mama. Thank you.” Steve smiled as he collected his cup. Steam issued from the lid and radiated through the cup as he held it. Back outside Steve smiled at him. “So you want to head back? Or we are pretty close to Central Park if you want to walk around there? It's not too crowded this time of year.”

His first instinct was to request to go home. In spite of the sun and jacket he still felt the cold seeping into his bones. Still holding the steaming cup seemed to take the edge off and he could tell Steve wanted to go to the park. “Lets walk.” He said. Steve smiled and set off. “The fruited plain still there?” He asked with a wink.

What he could see of Steve's face flushed pink. “No one calls it that anymore Buck.”

He stepped in front of Steve, forcing the other man to stop. Steve's whole face was pink. “Stevie, you're all red maybe we should go home.” Steve continued to look straight ahead instead of at him. “Unless it isn't the cold. What are you thinking about Stevie?”

“Buck knock it off.” Steve said pushing at him. In that moment the years seemed to fall away and they were teens again, Steve pushing him for teasing. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.

“I wonder if it's still there, our tree.” He said casually. Steve's mouth opened as if to answer but Steve snapped it shut. “You went and checked didn't you? Stevie!” His tone filled with mock surprise. 

“Shut up.” Steve groaned. That was all the answer he needed.

“You did! Did you think about me Stevie? About us? What we did?” He kept his tone quiet just in case anyone was listening but they were alone on the sidewalk. “You better show me Stevie. Lead the way.” He stepped aside and Steve continued as of he'd never been interrupted. The illusion was disrupted by the flush still on Steve's cheeks.

He could clearly remember Steve's eighteen birthday when he'd drug him out to the ramble. Steve had been in a piss poor mood all day and any attempts to improve his mood had failed. He'd guided Steve off the path and up to the base of a massive tree. He'd pressed Steve against the trunk, dropped to his knees and sucked him off there under the stars. After that there had been more than a few times they had snuck back together to that tree for sex or blowjobs. The fact Steve had come back to that spot, their spot, made happiness and fantasies run in equal speed through his mind.

He was still grinning when they reached the park. The city was waking up, more people crowded the sidewalks but as Steve had said, few actually moved through the park. Even fewer moved across the paths instead of following them as he and Steve did.

Soon they were winding through the familiar twists and turns of the forested area. The trees had filled in and grown but otherwise not much had changed. He recognized the area well before Steve crossed off the path and climbed. He reached out touching the bark of the massive tree. Steve stood a step behind him. He could feel the other man's eyes burning into his back. 

Steve stepped past him and sat his back pressed against the bark of the tree. “Come 'ere.” Steve said. 

With a smile he dropped down between Steve's knees and tucked against his chest. Steve's arms wrapped around him and held him close. The birds above them chirped but the sounds of the city were muted by the trees. He let his eyes drift closed enjoying the quiet. A woman with two children crossed by on the path below but experience told him they were well hidden. He was aware that he was nodding off but couldn't find the energy to keep his eyes open.

Blinking he yawned. How long had he been out? The sun was now visible above the trees. “Hey sleepy.” Steve whispered. 

“Hey.” His voice sounded rough. 

“You know any way we go we are going to hit people now?” 

“Yeah yeah.” He grumbled, sitting up and pressing a kiss into Steve's lips. “Did you do anything up here without me Stevie? When you came before?”

Steve chuckled, making him bounce as Steve's chest moved. “No. I thought about it but it wasn't the same.”

“We gonna do something again sometime?” He asked a grin widening on his face.

“You think that's a good idea?”

“Do I  _ ever _ have good ideas?” He asked with a wink. Standing he offered Steve his hand and pulled the other man up. Steve collected their cups from the ground next to the trunk. When all was quiet and no one was on the path they slipped back to it.

The trip home was uneventful. He wasn't sure if it was due to Steve knowing the right roads to take or due to New Yorkers general early morning disinterest in the world at large. Whatever the case he was glad when the elevator opened into their apartment. 

“What to come shower with me?” Steve grinned at him. 

He couldn't help but grin and follow Steve. He kicked off his shoes in the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks as Steve went to the bathroom to turn on the water. 

“Sir?” Jarvis asked. 

He turned to look up at the ceiling before stopping himself. No one else felt the need to look up when Jarvis spoke. “Yeah?”

Steve poked his head out of the bathroom to listen. “When you are ready, Mr. Stark requests your presence in the shop.”

“I'll be down in a bit.” he said, pulling off his shirt.

“Very good sir.” Jarvis said and quietness fell on the room. He pushed and squirmed out of his pants and boxers then followed Steve into the bathroom. Steam had already begun to fill the bathroom as he stepped in. It warned his skin and he took a deep breath, fighting down there urge to cough as the overly humid air filled his lungs.

Steve was already stepping into the shower. He paused for a moment to watch the way his muscles moved under his skin as he stretched in the warm water. It still felt impossible to think this Steve and his Steve from so many decades ago could possibly be the same man. 

Stepping into the shower Steve immediately pulled him into a crushing hug. He tucked his face into Steve's neck letting the warmth of Steve's body and the hot water from the shower soothe away coolness in his bones from the run.

Steve pressed into him until he stumbled a step backwards. Steve's arms remained tight around him keeping him from falling as he moved them both another step into the water. Steve's hands gently moved to his hair, carefully pulling it from the band, then guiding his head back to let the water wash over him. His eyes closed he yawned as Steve's fingers massaged his scalp.

“You don't think Tony will be upset? It's been days since I've been down.”

Steve's fingers stopped and he almost complained till he heard the pop of the shampoo bottle.

“No, I don't think Tony will be mad.” Steve said beginning to lather the shampoo into his hair. “Depression is hard and almost everyone goes through it at some point in their life. I  _ know _ Tony has. No one will be upset.”

“How much do you and Tony talk?” He asked supposed by Steve's apparent knowledge of Tony's mental state.

Steve laughed, the sound warm as it resonated in the shower. “More than you apparently think but Tony's never expressly told me that. I've just seen signs. Rinse.”

He forced his arm to drop from Steve's waist and move up to rinse his hair. As soon as he felt the last of the shampoo rinse from his hair he wrapped his arm back around Steve. 

“I think I'm still depressed.” He admitted quietly to Steve's collar bone. 

“It's ok to be depressed. Like I said, happens to most everyone. If you can think of anything I can do to help let me know and I will. Otherwise all you can do is try to work through it. There are medicines and things to try if it doesn't go away on its own but unless Bruce comes back soon, I'm not sure if they could make it strong enough for us.”

He frowned. “Has anyone actually heard if he's ok?” He asked. 

“Honestly he's with Thor I'm sure it's fine. But no we don't have a way to contact either of them.” He squirmed closer to Steve. Everything felt like it was all too much. “I love you.” Steve said into his ear.

That he could handle. “Love you too.” He turned to kiss Steve. 

“Ready to dry off? Tony said they have a lot of the arm already made so it's probably going to be a lot of testing today.” 

He stopped halfway through grabbing a towel. “So it's already almost done?”

Steve nodded and smiled. The thought of being back to normal sped his movements as he dressed. When the elevator doors opened he stepped into the quiet lab. Tony was in the small kitchen across the room. “Hey.” He called.

Tony turned. “Welcome back.” He said with a smile.

He crossed the lab over to the kitchen. “Yeah sorry I was-”

“Don't mention it. Just glad you're back. Coffee?” Tony asked, lifting his own mug.

“Steve and I got some when we were jogging. Thanks though. Where are the kids?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Look who's talking.” He said turning to look at the clock on the wall. It wasn't even nine yet. He thought he'd slept more in the park. “Steve said you'd made a lot of progress?” He asked.

“Mmh.” Tony nodded as he finished his swallow of coffee. “Come over here.” He followed Tony back though the benches. “Take your shirt off.” Tony said as they moved.

“I don't know if that's a good idea Tony. You're already drawing my arms. What would Steve think?” He flashed Tony a grin as he pulled his shirt off.

Tony rolled his eyes. “What I can't enjoy the view?” Tony smirked right back. “Besides, if I needed to see you shirtless I have hundreds of scans available which is how I was able to make this.” Tony lifted the framework for his new arm. Inside the shoulder, just behind where the star had been before, glowed an arc reactor. He reached carefully through the frame to touch the reactor. It was warm to the touch and while it wasn't moving he could feel the power just beneath his finger tips. 

“It looks amazing Tony.” He said his eyes wandered down from the reactor following both familiar and unfamiliar wires.

“Test fit then I can start teaching you how to maintain it, ok?” Tony asked. He nodded. Tony guided him to sit on a stool. Tony carefully lined up the framework and pressed. Everything seemed to fit. He wasn't exactly sure what Tony was looking for but he seemed pleased enough. Tony leaned back and tapped his shoulder five times at what felt like random locations but at the last press he felt a strange hum go through the cap. When Tony brought the frame back up close to the cap it seemed to jump the last inch or so to snap to the cap. The hum immediately stopped. 

It felt both familiar and foreign all at once. The arm was heavy, but nowhere near as much as his previous one. The weight made him feel a bit off balance. The arm lacked any sense of feeling which made sense. Tony had told him all the feeling would be in the plates Peter and Shuri were making and this was all exposed frame and wire. Still having anything there felt infinitely better than nothing. “Is it?” He asked but stopped, uncertain what he wanted to know. 

Tony didn't wait for him to figure it. “It's operational, go ahead try to move it.” It was as if his mind had gone blank at Tony's words. How was he supposed to move the arm? How could he move something with no feeling? Tony grabbed a pen off the desk. “Catch.” He said tossing it. With a whir of servos he caught the pen with his left hand. Tony beamed and he couldn't help smiling too. “Did you get that J?” Tony asked.

“Everything appears to be working as expected.”

He stared down at the shine of the plastic pen just visible past the darker black metal of his fingers. “It's weird to not feel anything.” He said. The arm whirred softly as he turned it to look at the mechanics. It really was beautiful in its own way. 

“Once the kids are up we will get the plates on to fix that. Then it's going to be a few days if testing and adjustments to dial it all in before you are back to normal.”

“Thank you Tony.” He said standing to hug the other man. He was careful to only use his real arm just in case. Tony hugged him back.

“Ready to learn how to maintain it?” Tony asked as they moved apart. He nodded. “I have been intentional in making this so it should never need maintenance. But in experience never happens pretty often do better to know. The material the reactor is built with should handle anything you can throw at it except maybe a nuke. If someone is nuking you the arm is the least of your worries.”

He considered cutting Tony off to ask what exactly a nuke was. He'd heard it enough to know it was a weapon. He'd seen the video of Tony forcing the one into space. He could ask later.

“If it does become cracked or damaged you need to get that arm off immediately. Let's practice the the code to do that first. I need to be sure you can reach all the programmed areas. Put your hand here.” Tony guided his right hand up to his shoulder, through the framework to touch the cap. “Here and here.” As Tony guided his fingers he realized there were four metal rings in the frame finger slipped through making it easy to find the correct spots for his fingers without being able to see. “Ok the sequence is middle, ring, index, ring, pinkie, middle.” He pressed as Tony spoke and on the final touch the humming began and the frame fell. The weight of it rested easily in on the fingers which still looped through the rings in the frame. 

He practiced several more times till it felt committed to memory. Not that he'd be removing the arm often anyway. Tony laid the arm on the workbench and soon they were pressed shoulder to shoulder leaning over the arm as Tony showed him how to fix it if needed. 

He was pleased that the maintenance was similar to the past. Checking and tightening wires mainly though “For this arm, there isn't going to be the mesh between plates so when you shower just set all the plates to open and flush it out. When I build the others, the ones equipped for fighting, they will have the mesh but since this was for just day to day.”

“No that's good. That mesh was a pain in the ass to maintain.” He said. “I-”

The elevator doors opened and Shuri's voice, laughing so hard she could barely speak issued out. “And then Baba went out and…” she trailed off her eyes coming to rest on him. Peter who had been laughing along with her quieted too. 

Peter recovered first. “Bucky. You're back.” He realized that no one had probably explained his disappearance over the last few days. In spite of how strange he'd acted the last time he'd seen the kids they didn't seem wary of him as they crossed the lab.

“How are you feeling today?” Shuri asked with a smile.

“I'm good. Thanks. Sorry if I slowed anyone up.”

“We have had plenty to work on. Did Tony show you?”

He hesitated. The frame clearly sat in front of him so she must mean something else. He was saved having to fumble for an answer when Tony spoke. “It's your invention you two show him.”

Shuri crossed to her work space and returned with something in her palm. She held it out for him to see. At first glance it looked like she held a piece of flesh. His stomach rolled as memories of missions which had left targets missing large chunks of flesh. He pushed those down as best he could before reaching out tentatively. Shuri passed it to him. The top layer felt exactly like skin, solidifying the sickness in his stomach but the part that rested on his palm was clearly silicone. “For your other arm. And for the little girl's.” Shuri explained. The skin for the prosthetic. 

“That's impressive.” He said, not bothering to hide the awe in his tone. “Had me fooled.” He passed it back.

Shuri smiled. “I have developed a system that can scan the skin tone of the amputee and then alter the coloring of the arm to make it almost impossible to tell it is a prosthetic. It will need a bit more testing to be completely accurate.” She turned to look at Tony. “How is the fit?” 

He picked up the frame and carefully dialing in the code Tony had taught him connected the arm. Tony leaned over with the screwdriver he'd been pointing out wires with before the kids had come in and pointed to a few points. “Need to grind it down a bit here and here. Otherwise we are ready to roll.”

“We’ll finish getting the plates ready to go for testing.” Peter said with a smile. Shuri smiled at Peter as they walked back towards her work space. “You gonna finish that story?” Peter asked with a grin.

Shuri smiled, her eyes catching Tony's for a moment. “So a plane landed in the pastures outside of the border tribe.”

Tony groaned. “Really? Really? I invite you into my lab to come help and this is how you repay me?”

Shuri grinned even wider before continuing. “So Baba went to see what is going on and Tony stepped off this plane. He went to Baba and introduced himself and told him he wanted to build us a school of technology. He went on about that would be taught and how it would be free. Baba he thought about just sending Tony away, telling him we were happy how we were. But then Baba remembered when he was a child he met Howard Stark. Azzuri, Baba's father, he was friends with Howard. So Baba told Tony, ‘come with me. I want to show you sometime’. He walked Tony right up to the shield that hides Wakanda and gestured him to go through. Baba said Tony didn't talk for an hour after that.” Peter and Shuri descended into giggles.

“C...cat got his tongue.” Peter managed through the laughter as they started to catch their breath. Then they were both laughing too hard to speak.

Tony rolled his eyes but he had a soft smile as he listened to Shuri speak. “See if I ever invite her back.” He said calmly when the laughter started to die down.

“What does it look like? Wakanda I mean?” He asked once everyone had settled into working. He let his eyes fall closed as he listened to her describe her home. 

It was well after dark before all the pieces that would make his arm rested on the bench. He reached out and tapped the code on his cap before setting the frame into place. “Good.” Tony said. Tony's fingers skimmed in and out of feeling as he checked the fit between cap and frame. “Now, same sequence as the frame but touch each finger to the pad of your thumb.” Tony nodded and offered him the glove like hand section. Carefully he slotted the frames fingers into the hand and slid it back. With a soft click the metal set into place on the frame. A shiver ran up his arm as sensation returned. Slowly he opened and closed the hand, watching how the metal moved. 

As he settled each plate into place another shiver ran up his arm. It wasn't unpleasant though after days of nothing it felt a bit overwhelming. With a final click the shoulder plate set in and the arm was complete. “Index to thumb twice then middle.” Tony instructed. 

The plates whirred quietly as each one slid from maintenance to open to closed then fell still. Tentatively, he began to run through a system check. It took only a moment for his mind to recall how to move each plate. It seemed strange that he could have started to forget so quickly.

Tony insisted on a few tests before he was allowed to go upstairs on the promise he would return in the morning for a full battery of tests.

Steve was stretched out on the couch watching TV when he stepped off the elevator. Steve twisted on the couch to look over the arm at him. “Hey! They got it done huh?” Steve rolled to his feet and crossed the room. “How's it feel?”

“Weird.” He said offering the gleaming metal hand for Steve to see. He felt the warmth of Steve's palm a fraction of a second before Steve's fingers touched his palm. “Almost too sensitive, after nothing at least.” He said softly.

Steve's fingers traced the high and low sections of his palm before sliding up his arm. “I'm glad. I'm glad you like it and it is working good. But you know you don't _ need _ it right? If there is ever a day you don't feel like wearing it you don't have to.”

“I know. Still, I prefer it.” He said, trying not to voice the uncertainty that Steve's words sparked in his stomach. Did Steve prefer him without it?

“And that's fine too. Whatever makes you happy.” Steve pressed a kiss into his lips. In that moment the stress and frustration and depression seemed to crash down on him. His right hand cupped Steve's cheek while his left slide behind the other man's neck to keep him from pulling away. He needed the closeness, wasn't willing to risk Steve pulling back. Steve didn't seem to mind his arms wrapped tight around him. “You want to stay up or head to bed?” Steve asked when he finally leaned back. He kept a hand on the back of Steve's head while letting his own head drop to Steve's shoulder.

“Bed.” He said after a moment's consideration.

“Sounds good Buck.” Steve stepped back and he followed down the hall to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So yea this chapter is hella long. Like 15k long. But big plot things are happening so I hope you enjoy!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

November 11

His eyes snapped open. He blinked rapidly trying to clear away the target’s eyes as they faded from panic to emptiness the life draining away. The target had been a kid, no older than seventeen. He'd joined Hydra then realizing his mistake tried to escape. He had hunted the boy down. The kid had begged for freedom, begged to go home and be with his family. 

Shaking his head he forced away the image of panicked brown eyes. That kid would probably still be alive if not for him. He'd probably been enjoying his golden years right now. What right did he have to still be alive decades past his natural life when that kid hadn't even gotten to see adulthood because of him? 

A wave of bile in his throat made him jerk up and into his elbows. Steve's side of the bed was empty. Had Steve gone running without him? As though to answer the question the bathroom door opened. Steve stepped through still in boxers and looking half sleep. “Oh hey Buck.” Steve yawned. “'S late but we can still go for run 'f you want.”

He couldn't stop the smirk from spreading over his face a Steve mumbled at him. “No that's ok. I need to check…J is Tony up?”

Instead of answering the question directly Jarvis replied, “Mr. Stark finished the arm this morning and will be visiting shortly to deliver it.”

He considered complaining that Jarvis hadn't actually answered his question but honestly that was what he'd really been asking. Originally Tony had promised the flesh like arm would be done a few days ago but some issue with the silicone they were using had pushed it back. He closed his eyes, letting his head drop back to the pillow as Steve crawled back into bed.

He was wary about wearing the new arm for the first time when there was so much to do that day. It made more sense though. That way the people he would tell about the charity could see what it would look like. He stretched and curled up into Steve's chest. Steve's fingers ran up his back and into his hair. His eyes closed as Steve's fingers began to work out the knots in his hair that always formed when he slept.

“Mr. Stark is on his way.” Jarvis’ voice broke through the quiet. Had he fallen back asleep? He stood and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, eyes carefully avoiding the uniform that hung visible in the open closest. He didn't bother with a shirt. It would just have to come off to fit the arm anyway. He stepped out of the hall at the same time Tony stepped off the elevator. 

“Hey.” He said blinking the last of the tired from his eyes.

“Morning sleepy head.” Tony said with a smirk. “Got you a present.”

Shuri really had outdone herself. If he hadn't known what it was it would look like Tony was carrying a severed arm. “Could you have waited any longer? Maybe till we were in the car trying to leave.” 

“I mean, I can come back then. When are you leaving?” Tony looked at his bare arm as though checking a watch. He laughed and Tony followed. Tapping his fingers to thumb he carefully freed the shoulder plate then reached in to free the arm. The weight falling away was an almost sickening feeling. He swallowed down bile for the second time that morning. Setting the metal arm down on the table with a soft thump he reached for the new arm. Tony hesitated. “I have been trying to dial the sensors in all morning. I think it may still be a bit too sensitive. If it is-”

“It will work for today.” He assured Tony. He wanted the other man to pass over the arm. He felt bare and raw without something weighing down his side. Tony passed the arm over and he lined it up. With a soft click the arm slotted into place. He stilled, his eyes tracking the movement of the new arm as he flexed it. If you could ignore the metal peeking out of his shoulder the arm looked completely normal. “Tony this… You really outdid yourself.” He said quietly. “Thank you.”

Tony beamed. “Hold out your hand. Let's do a quick sensor check.”

He held out his hand palm up. Tony tapped it with his finger. A touch that felt more like lightning shot up his arm. “Fuck! I see what you mean about the sensors.” He opened and closed his hand. Contact with his fingers all felt fine. He touched it with his other hand and the same arc of lightning shot up his arm.

“Is it too much? I dropped everything in half but I could half it again. When do you need to leave?”

“It's ok Tony. It will work for today. But then after it will need dialed way back.”

“Are you sure? I-” Tony stopped as Steve entered the room. He'd managed to throw on a tank top and sweatpants. 

“Stark.” He said passing the other man to stumble towards the coffee.

“Cap.” Tony said. 

“I'm sure Tony. Thank you. This is really impressive.”

Steve took a long drink of coffee then asked. “Has Peter gone home already?”

“What?” Tony asked.

“Mr. Parker is scheduled to remain the tower until Sunday night.” Jarvis spoke. “Shuri left early this morning.”

“Jarvis can you see if Peter wants to come today? It's his charity too. He could watch the parade then help tonight.” Steve said.

“Certainly. One moment.” Then after a pause. “He would be delighted.” Steve nodded and sat at the table coffee in hand.

“I'll be by later and we can work on the calibration.” He promised Tony.

Tony's eyes held his for a moment before he nodded and walked back to the elevator.

“Calibration?” Steve asked after the elevator doors closed.

“Yeah.” He dropped onto the couch. “The touch sensors are a bit too sensitive. It will be fine for today. So what's the plan? Parade then what? Pictures? Pictures and autographs?”

Steve hesitated only a moment. “This is going to be a bit different than what you've seen so far. I mean, I'm sure there will probably be some of that stuff. Opening ceremony is at 10 next to Madison Square Park. Then from there it's North on Fifth Avenue from 26th to 46th. After that we head to the VA to help cook and set up. The dinner is open to any vets who want to come and lasts from 4 to 9. Normally thousands rotate through…”

The elevator doors opened once more this time revealing Peter looking like he'd probably be asleep 5 minutes ago when Jarvis asked him to come. His hair stuck up in random directions. Peter was wearing a grey t-shirt that read “If you believe in telekinesis please raise my hand.” He snorted. Peter stumbled into the room and dropped heavily into the couch next to him.

“There's coffee if you want some.” He said to Peter.

“Really?” Peter blinked at him sleepily. Peter kicked off with his feet and back flipped over the couch landing on his feet behind it. He turned to the kitchen and shuffled over the the coffee maker like backflipping over the couch was completely normal. Steve directed him towards the mugs.

“So like I was saying, it's at the VA. Peter you don't have to come to the parade or down to the VA early if you don't want to. You could just meet us tonight.”

“No, it's ok.” Peter said, dropping back into the couch with a mug of coffee now streaming between his hands. “I watch the parade every year. It will be cool to see it again. And I don't mind going early. I help May in the kitchen all the time and I volunteer some at the VA too. My parents were-.” Peter froze mid sentence and took a long drink of the coffee. “I don't mind helping.” He said in a rush.

“Sounds good. We will all ride together both places then. At the dinner you both can pass out cards to anyone who may be interested. Start spreading word about the charity.” Steve finished though his eyes never left Peter who was staring fixedly at his mug.

“Oh! Your arm!” Peter said jerking back before turning to look. He held up his hand moving all his fingers quickly through range of motion tests. Decades of habit made him try to move the plates next which resulted in painful static from the arm. He stopped. It was still disconcerting to see skin instead of metal after so long. Once Tony dialed in the sensors he could look normal again.

“It looks great! Did Mr. Stark figure out how to fix the sensors?”

“They are still a bit over sensitive. He's going to dial them back more tonight. When do we leave?” He asked Steve. 

“About 10 minutes. Peter there's food if you're hungry. Help yourself. I'm going to get changed.” Steve gained his feet. He stood and followed. He rummaged through and found a t-shirt that would still allow most of the arm to show as well as a pair of pants. He folded both and left them on the bed.

“Bucky.” He stopped halfway through pulling off his sweatpants. “You know you don't have to wear this. Normal clothes is fine.” 

His eyes darted to the uniform that hung in the closet next to Steve's Captain America uniform. His Howling Commandos uniform. The one he'd fallen in. No. That wasn't right. That uniform was destroyed. This was a replica. Identical except sewn from modern cloth and to match his current measurements. “It's fine Stevie.” He mumbled, willing it to feel fine. 

“Buck…”

“It's fine!” He'd not meant to snap but at least Steve didn't press it further.

He crossed to the closet. Steve's uniform hung next to his own. It could have been the 40s again, seeing the two uniforms hung together. 

He pulled his uniform out. Memories all fought for attention at the front of his mind. He and the commandos laughing as they dressed for a mission. Laying in the dirt watching through his scope as they took down a base. Steve helping with the buttons when after he'd hurt his shoulder Steve's fingers carefully brushing over his skin as he worked. Falling. Hydra cutting it away around his arm. Hydra lighting his pants legs on fire just to watch him scream. “Buck?” He pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“Sorry. Whoever made this did a really good job. I can't find anything different.” He covered for his stillness.

“Yeah she does amazing work.” Steve agreed. He could hear the smile on Steve's voice without turning. He dressed almost mechanically forcing his mind to stay present as he worked.

Dressed, he moved to the bathroom to brush his hair and teeth every swing of his arm sent sharp staticing pain through his arm. He forced the thought out of his mind. It was not anything he couldn't ignore.

He stepped back into the living room as Peter finished practically inhaling a sub sandwich. “It isn't going to run away; you do have time to chew.” He said dropping into the couch opposite Peter. “And since teleporting doesn't exist there is also a car ride you could eat during.”

Peter looked dramatically more awake. It also looked like he'd brushed his hair with his fingers. Peter's eyes glanced over him for a split second as he swallowed the massive bite. “Wait Steve hasn't shown you teleportation yet?” Peter asked with enough conviction there was a split second he had to wonder if Peter was being serious. Then he continued. “Besides you only say that ‘cause you didn't see it a second ago. It jumped off the counter tryin to get away.”

“Being a slob doesn't count as the food being alive genius.” He said laughing. 

“You two ready?” Steve asked from the hallway. He glanced over. Steve wore the same uniform he had the day on the train. He wondered if it too was an artful remake or if in Steve's case it was original.

He stood and Peter followed them both to the elevator. They stepped out into the garage. Joseph, Roy, and Caddric stood next to a nondescript black SUV. He smiled. He was glad they were coming along. If the men were at all surprised about their looks they didn't show it.

“Hey guys thanks for picking us up. We have an extra today.” Steve said calmly. “Peter this is Joseph. He's head of security today.” 

“N-nice to meet you.” Peter said, his tone soft as he offered his hand.

“Roy. He will be with you if anything goes sideways.” 

“Good to meet you.” Roy said holding out his hand to Peter.

“And poor Caddric who gets stuck on Bucky watch.” Steve said.

Peter laughed but it felt hollow. He still looked tense, like meeting the three had made him uncomfortable.

“Poor me?” Caddric asked after shaking Peter's hand. Caddric stepped around Peter and Steve to stand next to him. Caddric's hand dropped heavily into his shoulder. “At least if there is an attack I don't have to worry about Bucky going full martyr and charging into a dozen hostiles armed with nothing more than a polo shirt and a shield.”

Everyone but Steve was laughing now. “Jesus he didn't really did he?” He asked as the laughter calmed down. 

“Yup! During a meet and greet in New York. That's when Joseph took over from the last guy. How many bullets did they pull out of you Cap?”

“Seven.” Joseph answered, beginning to usher everyone towards the van.

“You're looking good Buck.” Caddric said quietly, giving his shoulder a squeeze as he started to guide him to the van.

“What saying I didn't before?” He asked, elbowing Caddric's ribs. 

“Nah. Before you looked a bit like death warmed over.”

He, Steve, and Peter took the middle row of seats. Roy and Caddric sat behind them. He pressed close to Steve's side to make sure Peter had enough room at the end of the bench seat. He knew he shouldn't be shocked Steve would charge headlong into danger like that. No doubt there had been citizens there who needed the protection. Steve had always been nothing but good. Always ready to protect anyone who needed it no matter what the cost to his own well being. How could Steve be with him? Love someone like him? He'd done nothing but kill and destroy. If he'd protected anyone it had been murders, the masterminds of genocide and death. He-

“Hey Bucky is that a new arm?” Caddric's voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I- Yeah.” He said lifting the arm to the back of the seat and flexing it. The back of the seat felt like sandpaper where it touched his arm. “That's part of why Peter's coming today. We are setting up a charity to get free prosthetics to people who need them. This is the prototype.”

“No kidding? Can I feel?” Roy asked. 

“Sure.” He said before carefully schooling his face to hide any trace of discomfort as the other man touched the arm.

“Are there any kind of requirements to get one?” Joseph asked. 

“I mean people who can afford to get one themselves can't just get one for free but not really.” Peter pipped up next to him.

“Do you have a card or something? My nephew could-.”

“Sure!” Peter said. He pulled a card out of his jacket and passed it to Joseph at the next stop light.

“Thanks.” Joseph said, reading over the card until traffic picked up. “Planning to handle the parade like last year. Roy can stay in the crowd with Peter.”

“I'm ok on my own if you need to be somewhere else.” Peter said quickly.

“It's ok.” Roy said. I am normally on the sidelines anyway. It will be fun to have someone else there too.”

Peter nodded but didn't look sure.

“Then at the benefit, we aren't planning on keeping to tight a tail tonight Steve.” Joseph continued over his shoulder. “Room full of vets, most people aren't that stupid. We will be monitoring all entrances and exits.”

“Sounds good. I would suggest…”

“So Peter, you go to school around here?” Roy asked. He turned away from Steve's continued safety debrief to listen instead to Peter's reply. 

Peter turned to see Roy. “Uhh I go to MSST.”

“Really? I have a friend whose daughter goes there. Do you know Charity Denisa?” 

“Uhh. Sounds familiar. I think I've seen her around maybe.” 

Roy nodded. “It's a good school. But then if you're working with Stark to make stuff like that.” He gestured to the prosthetic, “you must really know your stuff. Know what you want to be when you graduate?”

“Not sure. Probably work at Stark Industries for awhile.”

“Tony's a good guy.” Caddric said easily. “Wasn't before but he's a good guy now.”

The sound of the car being shifted to park pulled his attention back to their surroundings. “We are about two blocks from where we need to be.” Joseph said, turning around to look at them. “Peter, when we get out I want you between Steve and Bucky, okay?”

“Yeah.” Peter said. 

Joseph, Caddric and Roy got out first. They followed, Peter moving quickly to slip between them. Joseph took the lead with Roy and Caddric on either side. It was a fairly uneventful walk considering all the prep that went into starting. Joseph had to firmly tell several people no autographs but they managed to make it easily to the ceremony.

Rows and rows of chairs stood before a podium sat in the Park. They had barely stopped when a voice spoke. “Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes.” He turned to see a man in a suit moving towards them. “Good morning gentlemen. Your seats are this way. Corporal Walsh and Schmidt,” he barely stopped himself swinging around at the name Schmidt. He looked over his shoulder to see Caddric and Joseph respond. “Will you gentlemen be okay one row back like last year.”

“Yes that's fine.” Joseph said easily. 

The four followed the man through the rows of chairs straight to the front. He focused on breathing. Johann Schmidt was dead, would have died years ago.  _ You don't know that. _ He pulled in another breath pushing down against the rising panic. He'd never saw the man die but if he'd been alive Johann would surely have helped with the Winter Soldier project. And regardless neither Caddric nor Joseph was Johann. “Captain are you sure you wouldn't prefer-.”

“I'm fine, Bryan.” Steve said with a smile. “Thank you though.” 

The man nodded and slipped away. He sat on the end seat Bryan and pointed to as one of the seats for them. He closed his eyes and focused on pulling in air. Above the quiet din of surrounding voices he could hear birds singing in the trees. The clouds shifted and sun warmed his face. The morning was chilly but the uniform definitely offered plenty of protection from the cold. He shifted and a stab of electricity shot up his arm. He sighed. He should have let Tony work on it.

“Sergeant Barnes?” He looked up to see several people standing looking at him. A younger man, maybe mid twenties, stood in the middle and seemed to have been there one who spoke. 

He stood and smiled hoping he managed relaxed and not forced. “Good morning.” He said.

That seemed to be all it took. The group jostled forward and in a rush hand after hand was presented for him to shake along with names and smiling faces. He tried to focus on what each one said, respond to what they said but he had a hard time focusing. His heart was still pounding under his ribs and it felt like he was hearing through a sense fog that filled his mind. “Honored to meet you.” “Thank you for your service.” “Such and inspiration.” 

The final hand held out was the man who had originally spoke. Distantly he registered that the man was not unattractive. He had black hair and almost electric blue eyes. He'd never gone with another man besides Stevie but he was cute. “It's nice to meet you Sergeant Barnes.” The man said, pressing a piece of paper onto his hand. “Mind if we take a picture?”

He focused his mind to work through the fog. “Sure.”

The man, what had he said his name was?, turned to stand next to him. One of the women who had introduced herself pulled out a camera. The man dropped an arm over his shoulders. The tips of his fingers rested where the arm met the cap on his shoulder. He kept himself from cringing at the sharp jolt. He smiled as the girl counted down and snapped the picture.

“Thanks so much.” The man said with a smile and the group wandered off. It wasn't until they were well out of sight that he checked what the man had pushed into his hand. A slip of paper with a name and number on it. He blinked and pocketed the paper, not sure exactly how to feel about that at the moment. 

He turned to find Steve sitting and speaking to an old man who sat in the chair next to Steve. “Hey Buck.” Steve said, noticing the group was gone. He turned and moved to Steve's side. The man smiled up at him. The man had a noticeable shake to his movements. “This is Sergeant Major Steward. He served in the 108th.”

He stilled, looking down at the man who he may have very well gone to battle with. “It's a pleasure to meet you sir.” He said, holding out his hand. The man smiled and shook his hand. In spite of how frail Sergeant Major Steward looked his handshake was surprisingly firm.

“That was your men in Austria?” Steward asked. 

He felt the whisper of a smile pull the side of his mouth. “Yes sir.”

The older man patted the back of his hand. “That was a good battle son. My men…”

He let his thoughts wander as the man spoke. He didn't want to think about the war didn't want to remember any of it. Still listening to old war stories felt familiar. He jumped when a magnified voice spoke above the din. “ _ If everyone will please take their seats, we will begin in just a moment.”  _

He smiled apologetically at the man before moving around Steve to take his seat.

A man stepped up to the microphone. “Good morning everyone. Thank you all for being here today. Before we begin, I'd like to lead us all in a prayer.” A childhood of church made him fold his hands and drop his head before his mind had a chance to process the man's words. “Almighty God, as we come together this morning in freedom may we never forget to live our lives with purpose and calling with honor, courage, and commitment. We ask Lord that you give each of us here today the mental, moral, and physical strength to fulfill our duties in ways that honor you. May we never forget the sacrifice you have made for us. We thank you for your example of selflessness and all those generations past and present who have put their neighbor before themselves. For those who were willing to serve in the armed forces in times of peace patiently awaiting their call. And those who fought during times of unrest bearing the wounds of war we say thank you and ask your hand a blessing of rest upon them. May we never forget the peace that was established nearly a hundred years ago on the 11th month on the 11th day of the 11th hour and the weight of such a gift. Through your guidance and wisdom may we look upon others with your eyes so we may see clearly as we seek to help and keep this peace alive. Thank you Lord for those who have made this possible. May we never forget. We ask these things in your loving name. Amen.”

A murmur of Amen rolled through the crowd and he heard it on his own lips without realizing he'd spoken. The last time he'd prayed he'd been in that uniform as well, he realized with a roll of sickness. Begging and trying to bargain his freedom alone in the dark in Hydra's labs.

“Thank you Lieutenant Alexander.” A new man stood at the microphone. He tried to pull himself back to focus on the voice speaking. The voice was running down different names and the audience was clapping each time he stopped. He was suddenly aware that besides those in the rows of chairs, hundreds of people were standing in a ring around the front of the stage. Many in uniform but not all. He was surrounded. His heart leapt into his throat. 

Steve shifted next to him, their knees bumping together. “You ok?”

He looked at Steve, forced himself to breathe. He was being stupid. Steve wouldn't let him come if he thought there was danger. He nodded. A new voice was speaking but he focused on Steve's one resting against his. While they both wore blue Steve's was lighter. He jumped when Steve nudged him and stood. He pulled back the last words the speaker had said. “Air Force color guard to present the colors.”

He stood next to Steve as the color guard marched towards the podium. He fell into salute watching as the flag rippled in the cold morning air. Distantly he knew this felt familiar but the intervening decades cast a shadow of doubt over his actions. Was he standing right? Had he really even stood at all? Everything felt off kilter. The color guard marched away he let his hand drop. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Please take your seats.” 

He sat and Steve leaned over to him. “Still okay?” He shrugged. Steve's knee returned to bump against him as the voice at the podium continued. A bird was still chirping nearby. He was surprised that the band and clapping hadn't scared it off.

Everyone was standing again, this time to clap. He looked at Steve in confusion. “That's Buzz Aldrin.” Steve whispered into his ear. “He is an astronaut. He landed on the moon.” His eyes snapped to the man. A person had been to the Moon? 

The man was waving for them to sit. “Buzz is my name and space is my game.” The man said. He laughed along with the crowd. “Little toe head boy from across the river in New Jersey, Montclair. Little did I believe that I would be sharing. As a veteran coming after the greatest generation that I saw as a teenager I've been so lucky in my life so many times. We have a Centennial of sorts of veteran's day. What a wonderful that opportunity is for all of us to get together again. As we think about singling out people who've been traveling a good bit to come here there are a lot of my comrades in space that aren't able to come and the number is, the number of us surviving is getting fewer and fewer. But not only other hundreds and hundreds of astronauts and cosmonauts but there's a few that started this out. Alan Shepard, Gus Grissom, and John Glenn. Some of us were very fortunate to be able to reach the goal President Kennedy set for us, reaching the moon. Not just a dozen, Cheaper by the dozen, that walked on the moon but the 24 that enabled is, that, to happen by reaching the book. And I think, well I know, that we have all come a long ways and I honor all the veterans. A little over a year, almost two years from now, July 20th would be that very fortunate date when Gil and I set foot on the moon. Five decades. The first eagle landed on the moon. Two decades eagles two, three, and four will land on Mars and the first generation that will reach Mars is alive today. So, get your ass to Mars!” He laughed at the man stepped off the stage.

He looked over and Steve was laughing to. “I'm not quite sure what to say after that.” The announcer laughed easily. “We are going to Mars! Thank you so much Buzz. You truly are an inspiration. You are a hero. I'd now like to introduce another great American hero. Many of you grew up watching his movies or reading his comics. Then seven years ago the nation watched as the seemingly impossible happened, he returned from the ice. Then just a few short weeks later he helped save this very city from a new threat, aliens. Then three years after that he protected us from another national threat by dismantling Hydra. Please help me welcome Captain America.”

Steve stood and moved towards the stage. A hand closed firmly on his shoulder. He glanced over to see Caddric watching him. He wasn't sure if the hand was to help keep him seated or if it was meant to comfort but he didn't try to move away.

Steve didn't try to go up the stairs on the side of the stage. He put one foot on the stage and stepped up the three foot height, never breaking stride. He rolled his eyes, knowing Steve only did it to show off. If it was for him or the crowd he wasn't sure. He watched Steve take his place behind the microphone. It was so strange to see Stevie standing confident in front of a crowd.

“Welcome and thank you all for having me. Not sure how to follow up after Buzz but from what I hear I'm right behind him on the parade too so everyone will get to be a bit disappointed to see me after such a legend.” Everyone chuckled and Steve continued. “So for those who haven't heard me speak at one of these, since they keep inviting me back every year, I try to speak about something new every year. So, let me start off by saying thank you to everyone here. The price of freedom has always has been and continues to be high. The sacrifices made, not only by service men and women but by their families and their friends is immense. But it doesn't end after the war, it doesn't end when you come home. The war does not end when peace is declared, it continues for the men and women who served obviously but also for their family not just that moment but for years and decades to come. In this day and age of medicine and science there needs to be a deep awareness and understanding. We as a people need to rise up as one to support our veterans and their families. We need to put in place measures to insure our returning veterans have access not just to medical help physically but more important mentally as well. More over the sheer number of homeless veterans in the United States is appalling. 130,000 to 200,000 veterans on any given day are without homes. We need to do better.”

Caddric's hand tightened on his shoulder pulling him back as Caddric leaned forward. He turned, letting Steve's words continue to wash over him though he didn't catch the words. “He's about to mention your name.” Caddric warned him quietly.

He nodded surprised and turned back to Steve. “So, to those of you here who are families of military or maybe you don't have anyone in your family that's ever been military but you are here today to support those who do I challenge you. Open your eyes. Look for ways to help, things that need fixing and find a way to help. If you don't have the money or the resources to help just be present. Go to the VA and just listen to someone. Make friends with a co-worker who was a veteran, stop and talk to someone at your local coffee shop. It doesn't take being rich or powerful to help. The horrible truth is for several years now more military men and women are losing their lives to suicide than falling in combat and that…” He could see Steve's feet plant and his face set. For a split second he could see Steve as he was when they were kids, setting his shoulders and preparing for an argument. Then all at once Steve relaxed. He's caught himself and corrected it. “Sorry. That it just always hard to think about. It was a statistic I was very nearly part of.” Ice bloomed from his chest like being dropped into cryo. Steve was still speaking. He forced himself to focus. “It's, anyway. Two of my close friends saw just such a need and have created a solution. Sergeant James Barnes.” He felt like a tidal wave of eyes crashed into him. Thankfully just as quickly everyone turned back to Steve. “Who served in the 107th before becoming one of the Howling Commandos, and Peter Parker who goes to high school at Midtown School of Science and Technology have worked together to create a new kind of prosthetic. This prosthetic has full range of movement in most cases as well as full sensation of touch. It is made of a new silicone that Peter designed that can be dyed to exactly match the recipients skin tone with the goal of making it as lifelike as possible. This is something that will be available for free to those who apply. While this does include civilians, I wanted to bring this information to you first. If you or someone you know could benefit from this please catch Bucky or I before the parade or pop in to the VA any time before 9 tonight. We will be there.” 

It felt strange leaving out Tony and Shuri but both had asked for their contributions to be disregarded and Steve had promised to respect it. Steve's hand pushed through his hair. “Finally, and this is speaking straight to the veterans here today. Find a support structure. Be that friends, family, loved ones, support groups, anything. If you are truly alone and feel like you have no one who can help my phone number has been and will continue to be available online. There is a reason I will not ever change that number. If it gets too much, call it. I know there are a few people out there today that I've talked to, that I've helped. The war doesn't end when we come home. Please remember, you are never alone. Everyone here stand together. Support one another. No matter your branch, when or where or how you served, we are all military. We are all one unit. We have to band together to help and protect each other. I challenge you all today don't let your brothers or sisters fall. When they don't have the strength to go on carry them. Only united together can we all make it through. Thank you.”

The crowd roared as everyone stood to clap as Steve stepped off the strange and returned to stand next to him and flashed him a smile. The announcer returned and slowly the cheers died back down. He sat letting his knee bump against Steve's. The announcer was speaking but he wasn't listening. Steve had almost committed suicide? Then again Steve had woken up alone. Everyone had been gone. He'd been alone too when he escaped Hydra but he'd still had a mission. He glanced over at Steve. The other man was watching the announcer with rapt attention. He doubted Steve was really listening that intently. Steve had always been like that in school too, watching the teachers closely. It was a respect thing, Steve had told him.

He closed his eyes as an ice cold breeze blew through his hair. If Steve had been gone, he'd never escaped Hydra. They would have put the helicarriers in the air and he'd have been iced again waiting for the next mission. 

He needed to talk to Steve tonight. Steve had taken care of him and all his issues but then almost every night he left to go be in the lab when he woke up. Did Steve have nightmares too and then wake up alone? Guilt flushed over his chest. He needed to be there for Steve like Steve was for him. 

Everyone was standing. He stood too waiting to see the was going on but no one was on the stage. It took him a moment to realize the ceremony was over. Anything after Steve's speech he'd completely missed. 

Steve dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Doing ok?” Steve asked quiet enough only he could hear over the increasing chatter.

No. “Yeah Stevie. That was a really good speech.”

Steve smiled, “Was it? I feel like I got side tracked. They keep telling me to bring notes but I just can't without sounding like a robot.”

He was spared having to answer by Peter and Roy appearing through the crowd. Peter looked starry-eyed. “I didn't know you were actually going to say my name!” Peter said excitedly as soon as they were within ear shot.

Steve smiled. “Of course! You did a ton of work on this. You deserve the recognition.”

Peter opened his mouth to reply but a man moved up to stand next to Steve. “Hey Steve!” He said with a smile.

“Chris! Hey how have you been?” Steve asked, smiling at the other man. 

“Good, good. Listen I'm not going to lie I don't have anyone who could benefit from the prosthetic but I was hoping to come by and meet Sergeant Barnes,” the man's bright green eyes met his for a moment “And...Peter?" He asked eyes moving to look at Peter. Peter looked at danger of exploding from excitement as he nodded.

“It's nice to meet you sir." Peter said and the man smiled.

“May I?” Chris asked, pointing to his arm.

Shit. "Yeah sure." He said carefully pulling up his uniform to expose most of the false limb. His uniform caused sparks to shoot up his arm but he kept his face impassive. The pain was annoying but if he left Steve would too and Steve wanted this. He could manage.

Chris reached out carefully and pressed hard on the prosthetic. A jolt like the man stabbed him flared at the contact. Distantly he was aware of the hair in the back of his neck standing on end as dozens of surrounding people's eyes turned to him. 

“That's incredible.” Chris said. “And you helped make this?"

“Yeah! It started out as a school project and I…” he let his mind wonder. Chris approaching seemed to have opened the floodgates. Dozens of people surrounded then all jostling to reach out and touch his arm and try to get their questions answered.

Back on display. At least not a weapon this time. Instead of dulling over time the repeated contact seemed to be slowly ratcheting up the pain. A few people tried to engage him in conversation but gave up quickly. For the most part it was simple orders for him, lift your arm or make a fist, and the real questions got tossed to Peter and Steve. 

A hand dropped into his shoulder and squeezed hard enough to bruise. Before he could turn to locate the source of the pain a harsh voice whispered in his ear. “My parents are dead because of you." And then in an instant the pain and the voice we gone. He turned but no one was walking away from him. Had he imagined it? 

He returned his arm to the group of confused onlookers. None of them seem to have seen anyone and he want about to voice why he'd turned. The group seemed to forget soon enough, back to poking and prodding.

A voice over the microphone announced it was time to line up and prepare for the parade. The crowd around them slowly dispersed. Steve spoke to Joseph about security. Roy and Peter went to get their spot at the end of the parade. 

“You ok?" Caddric asked him quietly.

“How close were you watching everyone a minute ago?" He'd meant to lie but the man's voice felt like it was echoing through his mind, bouncing around in his skull.

“Pretty close, why do I need to flag someone?" Caddric's eyes scanned the area.

"Did something come up behind me and say something in my ear?" He asked speaking quietly so Steve wouldn't hear.

“Not that I saw. Why? Did something happen?” Caddric sounded concerned but keeping his voice quiet to match him. 

“No. No it's ok. I just thought I heard something.”

Caddric's eyes held his for a moment but the man didn't argue.

“Ready Buck?” Steve asked, looking over at him. Steve's face faltered. “You ok? I know that was a bunch of people.”

“I'm ok Stevie.” He smiled.

“We can skip the parade if you-”

“No really I'm ok.” Steve watched him another moment before nodding. 

“Let's head over to the Jeep then.”

“Jeep? He asked looking back at Steve who smiled.

“Yeah we get to ride in an old Willy.” He smirked, following after Steve. He rolled down his sleeve in hopes it might stop the electricity still zinging through his arm but if anything the contact with his sleeve only made it worse. His whole left side felt like it was crawling with tiny bolts of lightning. And that voice.  _ My parents are dead because of you. _ He had to have imagined it. He'd looked around after, no one had been walking away. No one had even been glancing at him. Still his shoulder ached like the skin tighten over a welled up bruise.

He was so deep in his mind that he bumped into Steve. “Whoa Buck. You ok?” Steve asked, his hands coming to rest on his arms so that he didn't fall. Electricity spiked where Steve touched him.

“I'm fine.” He snapped backing up so that Steve's hands fell away. Steve face fell for a moment but almost as fast as he'd noticed a smile was back. 

“Bring back memories?” Steve asked his hand resting on the door of an open top Jeep. The army green beast looked like it had lumbered straight out of his basic training days. He couldn't help the smile that spread as for a moment as electricity faded away with his attention diverted.

He opened the back door and climbed up into the seat. He sat on the back of the seat, his feet resting on the bench. Steve turned to speak to him but the man in the suit that had taken them to their seats appeared at Steve's elbow. Steve turned to speak with the man.

His eyes drifted over the people in front of them. It looked like most of the New York police were in the very front, then directly in front of them was the man who had been to space. He wanted to go talk to him. As a kid he'd dreamed of going to space, being in the stars.  _ He wouldn't want to talk to a murder. _ His stomach clenched at the thought.

How many people watching the show were like the person who'd whispered in his ear? How many didn't have a friend or a loved one any more because of him? He was no hero. He'd been captured by the enemy, allowed himself to be brainwashed, then killed for Hydra. He'd  _ killed _ the heros. He wasn't one. He'd killed people in power, people poised to do real good in the world and he'd stomped them out. The fist of Hydra. A sharp stab of pain spiked up his left arm and he jumped. He'd been squeezing the false limb. 

He looked around. Steve was talking to Joseph about something. The man in the suit was gone. Steve turned and smiled at him. Steve climbed into the Jeep, sitting on the back of the seat like he was. “Doing ok so far?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.” He wished he could lean on Steve, hold his hand, anything to hold down the overwhelming feelings clawing at his chest. If he was a dame he could get away with it, with showing that much emotion in public. He shifted so his leg was pressed against Steve's from hip to knee. 

Steve smiled. “So this part is pretty easy. Once we get going just smile and wave. Try not to make any strange faces cause they are almost constantly taking-”

“Steve I don't belong here.” He said in a rush. Steve's face fell. He quickly continued. “I'm not a hero Stevie.” His eyes met Steve's for a moment and he tightened his jaw before continuing. “I'm a murderer. I shouldn't even be out and around but I definitely shouldn't be in a parade. I killed hundreds of people Steve.  _ Good _ people.”

“Bucky that wasn't you. That was the winter solider.”

“Stop. Just stop you know that's not how this works. I am... I was the winter solider.  _ I _ killed them.”

“Bucky that wasn't you.” Steve repeated firmly. “You were brainwashed. You'd have killed your own Ma if they gave the order. You couldn't have stopped yourself. It was outside of your control.”

“It  _ wasn't _ . I gave up Stevie.” His left hand moved up to push through his hair but stopped halfway at the eruption of pain the movement brought. “I stopped fighting. I  _ gave up. _ If I had just kept fighting they would have stopped trying to brainwash me. They would have given up and-”

“They wouldn't have given up. They would have killed you before-”

“Better for me to die than hundreds! At least the people I killed could have done some good in the-”

“Enough!” Steve snapped. He stilled the rest of his words still on his tongue. “Please Bucky. Enough.” Steve spoke again quieter. Steve sounded tired. At once he remembered just how much these events took out of Steve. He felt a wave of guilt at reacting how he did. Steve enjoyed these and he was ruining that too. “Buck this is a parade for veterans. You are a veteran. You did a lot of good for our side before you were captured. You did even more good with me as a commando. You deserve to be here, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah Stevie. Sorry.” He said. The ice that had filled his chest when Steve talked about almost committing suicide was back. He opened his mouth to speak again but the sounds of movement ahead stopped him. The police were moving. The parade was starting.

Beneath them the Jeep rumbled to life. He looked up to see Joseph was driving. He looked around and found Caddric walking behind. Steve's hand dropped down and squeezed his knee before Steve shifted to begin to wave at people. Their legs remained pressed together and he was relieved for the contact.

They turned onto the main road and he plastered a smile on his face. He lifted his hand to wave, glad that his left could remain still for now at least. Police had been positioned to help keep people off the street. As his eyes scanned the crowd he could feel people pointing at him, whispering to each other. They knew too that he didn't belong. Hopefully they wouldn't judge Steve for riding with him. 

The farther down the route they traveled the more people had signs thanking them or calling them heroes. Each felt like a kick in the stomach but he tried to keep smiling anyway. 

Every minute or so they would stop moving as the police in front did something, it always made people cheer. Each stop he was hopeful was the last, that they could be done but the parade seemed to stretch for eternity. 

The shakes and rattles of the Jeep began to make his arm hurt worse. The constant hum made it feel like needles poking into his arm. When he saw the first wave of officers turn off the current road his heart sank. Another street? Then he spotted Roy and Peter waving from the sidelines. 

Steve flagged Peter over and Peter darted under the barrier to hop into the passenger seat. The police officer must have been in on the plan because he nodded to Steve but otherwise made no movement to stop Peter. Once they turned off the main road they drove a short way and parked in a lot next to the astronaut. 

“Okay!” Steve said with a smile, hoping over the Jeep door. “What's the plan?” He wanted to rip the arm off. Wanted anything to stop the constant sensation. Even now with the Jeep off he could feel the needles. “Buck, you ok?” He could hear the concern in Steve's voice.

“Yeah.”

“Okay let's head out.” Steve said. They fell back into the formation they had walked in earlier though this time they didn't encounter anyone who cared on the road. The next trip felt short. He tried to focus on what everyone was saying but couldn't manage it. The pain from his arm felt like a sense fog in his mind.

When they stopped again he mindlessly followed Steve into the building, the VA office Steve had mentioned before. Steve lead now, moving comfortably down the hall and into a large banquet room. They maneuvered through the metal chairs and folding tables that spread around the room and through a swinging door. Two women were bustling around a large kitchen but stopped as they entered.

“Buck,” he jumped at the sound of his name, “and Peter. This is Mary Fitzgerald and Lisa Thompson they will be directing us for the day. Mary, Lisa this is Bucky and,”

“Hey Petey.” Mary said with a grin before pulling him into a hug. “How's your Aunt, sweetie? Are you two still going ok?”

“Yeah. We are good.” Peter said, easily returning the hug before turning to Lisa and getting the same treatment.

Peter turned to see the surprised looks. “I told you I have volunteered here before.” He said sheepishly.

“Mmhm.” Lisa said. “Not often we get boys his age down here.

“Still too skinny.” Mary said, waving a spoon she'd been stirring with.

“We are going to go change then we will be ready to help.” Steve said with a smile. The women waved him off.

“Come on Buck.” Steve said easily. He followed Steve back into the hallway and through a door. The room seemed to be a large locker room. “It will be nice to put on something normal.” Steve said with a smile. He immediately began to unfasten his shirt, frantic to get the course material away from his arm. Only once he was shirtless did he still. Flexing his hand sent sparking pain through his arm. Even shirtless the connection l constant stabbing pain flashed over his arm. It was getting worse not better. The nerves were overworked. He turned to grab his shirt but Steve's hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Did Tony do something when he set this arm?” Steve sounded uncertain.

“What?” He asked, too tired to feel anything more than frustration at Steve's half question.

“You have a bruise.” Steve's finger tip traced where the hand had squeezed him earlier. So it wasn't just in his mind. How strong did someone half to be for him to still have a mark?

“No I think I did it by accident earlier.” He lied, pulling the soft white shirt over his head to block the discolored skin from view. Steve didn't argue. He quickly changed pants and folded his uniform. “I'll meet you in the kitchen.”

“Buck, wait.” Steve's voice held something that made him pause. Pain? Anxiety? He couldn't quite place the emotion in the words. Steve crossed to him and wrapped his arms around his waist. He took a slow breath before stepping into Steve's hug. Some of the frustration and anxiety melted away. “I love you.” Steve murmured into his ear.

“I love you too.” He said, face buried in Steve's shirt. All he could smell and see was Steve. He wished they could stay like that instead of having to go help.

“I'm sorry Buck. I shouldn't have snapped. I just, I didn't consider how hard some of this would be for you and I'm sorry.”

Guilt. That's what he'd been hearing. “It's ok Stevie. It's just a lot. I'm ready to be home.”

Steve chuckled and he closed his eyes as the warm sound washed over him like a balm. “Me too Buck. Me too. You know you can leave, come back when the dinner…” Steve's words tapered off as he shook his head against Steve's shirt.

“I'll be ok Stevie.”

Steve pressed one more kiss into his mouth. “Okay Buck.” He followed Steve back into the large room. “Let's get the tables set up then we can go help in the kitchen.”

The tables were light enough he could use just his right hand. Every step sent a small spark through the arm. Back in the kitchen he was set to work peeling a mountain of potatoes. The others worked and talked and laughed around him but he found it increasingly hard to focus on what was being said. Everything closed around him until all that seemed to exist were the potatoes and the pain in his arm.

A hand turning him around made him jump, dropping the potato he'd been working on. “...ready to.” Steve stopped mid sentence. He'd missed whatever Steve had been saying before turning him. “Bucky, what's going on?” Steve asked, his voice soft. He watched Steve's bright blue eyes study first his left eye then his right.

“I'm okay Stevie.” He didn't like lying but there really wasn't anything anyone could do until he got home and could get the arm back to Tony.

“People are here. You ready to go show off?” Steve's tone made it clear he didn't really believe him.

He forced a smile. “Let's do it!” 

Steve guided him out and to a table in the far side of the room. “If you want to just hang out here with Peter I'll send people your way. Sound good?”

He nodded. Peter chattered next to him. He watched the younger man's mouth move. His brain distantly was reading his lips, hearing him speak even if he couldn't process it. Then people began to arrive. A constant stream of voices greeting him, thanking him for his service, asking about the arm. With it a constant flood of pain as people touched the arm. He followed as best he could, smiling answering questions.

They must have been there for days the way time seemed to crawl. He didn't deserve the praise or the thanks. They only said it because they didn't know. They didn't know the mile wide trail of blood that followed him. The hundreds of good people in the world dead from his hands. 

A hand on his right arm made him jump. Blinking his eyes found Steve's. “Time to go home Buck.” Steve said quietly. He stood, following Steve out of the building. Distantly he was aware of the others, the murmur of conversation going on around him. Every bump and turn and stop was agony. He deserved it. He was a murderer.

Back safe at the tower the elevator seemed to take decades to rise. Even the soft buzz hurt. The second the doors opened he taped his fingers. As the arm dropped away it felt like a bolt of lightning. He grabbed it and threw it hard. It hit the wall with the unmistakable crunch of something breaking.

“Bucky what the fuck! _ ” _ Steve said. _ He could still feel it hurting _ . Desperately he tried to rub where the arm had been but his fingers encountered nothing but air. He had to move. What if it never stopped? What if something had gone wrong and it would hurt forever? But even as he thought it the pain began to ebb. In its place the memory of the man's words. The man had known who he truly was. A murderer. Not worthy of praise or attention. So many of them had said thank you, and told him what an inspiration he was. He wasn't. They didn't know. If they knew.

“Bucky stop.” His muscles jerked to follow the command before he was even fully aware Steve had spoken. Steve pointed at the floor and he dropped to his knees. Steve moved to stand in front of him. For a split moment the difference in their height felt calming. “It's ok Buck. Just breathe.” Steve whispered.

He tried to focus on the air filling his lungs. It shouldn't be. He shouldn't be alive. He didn't deserve to...

“Chin up.” The command cut through his thoughts and he jerked his head up.

Steve's left hand slipped over his shoulder to cup gently at the back of his neck. At the same time Steve's right hand moved to press firmly over his mouth.

“Breathe. If you need to talk, tap my leg otherwise be still and breathe.”

He pulled in a sharp puff of air through his nose then back out. Static began in the back of his mind. Each breath seemed to expand the cool static, soothing the electric feeling left over from his arm. 

It might have been seconds or hours before Steve spoke again, his voice low and quiet. “We are going to talk about this. You decide if that's now or later. When you pick tap my leg. There is no time limit, it isn't a race. Keep breathing and let me know when you're ready.”

He could hear the exhaustion in Steve's tone. A pang of guilt bubbled in his chest, clawed at the calm in his mind. He knew how much these events took out of Steve and now he was just adding more. And what he'd said during the speech. Ice began to fill his lungs. Who the fuck cared if they thanked him?  _ You don't deserve it. _ His heart redoubled. He couldn't wait to tell Steve. Steve would worry and he needed to relax not fret over him.

Before he could lose his nerve he tapped Steve's leg with his right hand. Steve's fingers moved from his mouth to his cheek. “They shouldn't have thanked me.” He said in a rush. Not exactly one of the two options he'd been given but he'd only skipped one step.

“Who?” Steve asked.

“For my service.”

“Why wouldn't they thank you?”

He looked incredulously at Steve who managed to still somehow be confused. “I told you Steve. I didn't belong there. I'm a murderer not a fucking hero ”

“I told you already Buck, that wasn't you. That was the Winter Soldier. Your name is-”

“Stop.” 

“James-”

“Stop!”

“Barnes, Sargent in the US-”

“STOP!! Damn it Steve stop!” He was yelling again. “You know that isn't how this works! You know that was me doing those things!”

“No it wasn't! Hydra destroyed your mind and forced you to follow their orders! If you had been you, if I'd saved you, none of that would have happened. That's not who you are. You did good things for the US way before Hydra. You're a good man Buck. That's why they were thanking you.”

“They were wrong.” He said, the pain of voicing those words burned him straight to his core. Everything felt hot, too hot, too tight. His ribs felt like a locked cage around his lungs.

Steve's hand moved back over his mouth and he tried to breath. Steve shifted, dropping until Steve crouched next to him on the floor. Steve pulled his body and he let himself go ragdoll limp. It took less than a minute for Steve to tuck him into his arms. Steve's arms wrapped around him holding him gently. “It's ok Buck. You can let out go. You're safe.”

As if that had been all his body was waiting on he collapsed into sobs. Steve's fingers took down his hair and brushed through it, massaging his scalp. It felt like years before he could breathe again. Slowly, he became aware of the soft noises Steve was making and the gentle thump of Steve's heart under his ear. 

He forced his hand to flex its grip on Steve's now slightly torn shirt. He was glad it was only his right arm. The memory of the crunch his left arm had made as it hit the wall made him turn, trying the see the damage from his spot engulfed in Steve. “It's going to need repair. Be still.” Steve said. It wasn't an order but he fell still all the same. Steve's fingers trailed up his back and down again. “I love you.”

He smiled weakly, “I love you too. Can I please get something for my headache?”

“Yeah Buck. Yeah come on.” Steve stood and offering him a hand. Steve moved into the kitchen and he followed. He needed to talk to Steve. Needed to know that wasn't still something Steve considered. Needed to apologize for leaving Steve alone every morning to go be in the lab. He just couldn't figure out how to start.

He gulped the glass of water and pain killer when Steve offered it. He needed to say something. “I'm going to go take the arm to Tony then can we talk some more when I get back?” He asked softly.

“Sure Buck.” Steve smiled. He was almost sure he managed a smile back.

He picked up the arm, which was now bending in entirely the wrong way. Another wave of guilt rolled through his stomach. Tony had worked so hard to get it ready before today. He grabbed his metal arm from where he'd dropped it on the table that morning. It connected, feeling like a balm over his frayed nerves. He flexed his fingers letting himself enjoy for a moment the painless of movement 

“I'll be right back.” He promised as he stepped into the elevator. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take another breath.

A wave of music hit him as he stepped off the elevator. Tony waved him over and flagged down the music. He hesitated only a moment before setting the arm on the bench. “What the hell happened?” Tony demanded picking up the damaged arm.

“I.” He hadn't even begun to figure out how he was going to explain the damage to Tony. “Sorry. It was hurting worse than I'd anticipated and the stress of the day I just. I'm sorry.” He said again before turning to leave.

“Shit! Bucky come here.” Tony said. He kept walking. He couldn't deal with disappointing anyone right now especially not Tony. “Damn it. Jarvis lockdown the elevator. Bucky I'm serious come here.” The edge of  _ something _ in Tony's voice made him stop, then turn to walk back to Tony. He watched the concrete of the floor rather than see the look on Tony's face. “Bucky. Did someone touch your shoulder?” Tony's voice was strangely calm.

“I. What?”

“Think! Did someone touch your shoulder?”

He looked up to meet Tony's eyes. They stared intently back into his. “I mean, that was the point right? At least a hundred people touched my arm today Tony.”

“No, this would have been higher up. Like here.” Tony's hand rested on his shoulder. As if the voice were with them in the room he heard again,  _ My parents are dead because of you. _

“Yeah, there was one guy that-”

“When? Jarvis I need footage.”

“Tony what is going on?” He demanded.

“When Bucky?”

“After the ceremony before the parade. What the fuck is going on Tony?” He demanded.

“J?” 

“Checking sir.” Jarvis sounded calm. At least someone was.

Tony rummaged through a tool kit and grabbing a set of long thin tweezers he turned back. Leaning over the arm he slipped the tweezers into a cut so fine he hadn't even seen it and pulled it a tiny back circle. His blood ran cold. As Tony flipped it in his hand a tiny Hydra symbol was emblazoned on the side. “I trust you know what this is?” Tony asked.

“Tracker but how…”

“It was contacting the nerve there. It's why the arm was hurting so much. When this person touched you it hurt?”

“Yeah, he squeezed my shoulder hard enough to make a bruise. I-”

“J, get Steve down here. Did you _ see _ anyone?”

The second question was directed at him. “No, they were gone so fast I thought that I'd imagined it until Steve saw the bruise.”

“When did Steve see the bruise?” Tony asked, then “Is it still there?”

“I don't think…” he pulled off his shirt.

“J, full scan check for anything else tracking or transmitting.”

“Scan clear. No official video feed of the event.” Jarvis said.

“Ok fine check social media. Come on Jarvis I shouldn't have to explain this. I think there may be some faint yellowing. This was hours ago, not normal-”

“Tony what's going on?” Steve stepped off the elevator.

“Your boyfriend managed to pick up some Hydra tech during your little day trip today.” 

Steve paled. “What?” 

Tony held up the tweezers. “Recognize this?”

Steve crossed the lab. “Subdermal?” He asked. Reaching out he took the tweezers from Tony, turning it over to examine it. “I thought I'd destroyed all of these.”

“Yeah apparently not.” Tony said from his position bent over the arm.

“Any idea when you would have gotten it?” Steve asked, looking at him.

Tony spoke before he could. “He thinks it was when that guy was squeezing his arm and left the bruise. How long after that did you see the bruise was still there? With his healing anything a normal person would do should not have lasted.”

Steve's eyes flicked to his and his stomach churned as Steve realized he'd lied. Steve looked back at Tony. “Honestly it's been such a long day it all blends together.” Steve's voice was calm at least.

“It happened right before they called us for the parade.” He said quietly. 

“That's right.” Steve played it all off so easily. “So that would have been an hour maybe hour and a half before I saw it. It was dark yellow then.” Steve's hands gently checked his shoulder. “It's faint but it looks like it's  _ still _ there.”

“When was the last time you had a bruise that lasted that long?” Tony asked, eyes on Steve. He closed his eyes trying to think of anyone in Hydra who he might have killed that would leave behind a child. He should tell them, he knew he should. Maybe with the extra information they could determine who it was. He couldn't seem to force the words past his lips. Somehow speaking it made it true. And if it was true would Steve be able to forgive yet another death at his hands?

“Pulling up all available media from this afternoon that contains Sergeant Barnes.” Jarvis said.

“Order it chronologically.” Tony answered without looking up, his voice strained. Tony was holding the prosthetic and with a twist a horrible grinding pop came from the elbow. Tony let out a breath. “Ok J. Show us what you got.”

The first few pictures Tony swiped away showed he and Steve working towards the ceremony. The fifth picture in he recognized immediately. The guy who had given is number. 

“So if someone was directly targeting you, here is how the found out where you were. Jarvis, how many views has this photo gotten?” 

“Over 100 thousand sir.”

“ And repeated views?”

“Nothing significant using regular data parameters.”

Tony moved the picture to the side and continued. He wasn't the focus of any further pictures at least. He skimmed quickly through the recordings of the ceremony. If the camera had swept past his face Jarvis had pulled it. After the ceremony was much the same. 

“Wait! Go back.” Steve said so suddenly he jumped. “There.” On the screen he could see the edge of the back of his head. Another person was leaning over his shoulder, speaking into his ear. The person's face and hair was obscured by a hoodie. 

“Jarvis, track him through the posts.” Tony said leaning closer. The person finished whispering into his ear, started to turn, and whoever was taking the video turned to talk to a friend. “Shit!” Tony snapped. “J get me eyes on this guy.”

There was a pause. “No further video is available. I will continue to monitor newly uploaded content.” 

“Did that person say something to you Buck?” Steve still spoke quietly. He nodded hoping against hope that neither Tony nor Steve would push but both men looked at him expectantly.

He closed his eyes and spoke. “He said I was the reason his parents were dead.” The words seemed to hang low in the air. 

“That was his exact wording?” Tony asked. “You're the reason my parents are dead?”

“I. No. My parents are dead because of you.” He requoted.

“So not you killed them?  _ Because _ of you?” Tony said. 

“I am sure he meant I killed them. He probably worded it wrong.”

“I don't think so. He obviously didn't plan to attack you here so this could only be a play to freak you out.” Steve said still looking at the screen. “If you had killed them wouldn't accusing you of murder been more upsetting?”

“So this isn't a small guy by any means. Looks like he has an inch or two on Bucky. Not as wide though. Did he have an accent? Lisp? Something to help pin down his voice?”

“No. Just sounded normal to me.” He just wanted to go upstairs.

“J, anyone roughly meeting those size dimensions leaving the area? Check traffic cameras too. Look for anyone with black clothing either on or in hand.”

“There is a man leaving about 10 minutes after this video carrying what appears to be a black jacket.”

“Show me.” A scratchy feed obviously taken from a traffic camera replaced the video on the screen. A man in a light blue rain jacket was moving away towards the street. He kept his head down as he moved. He recognized the position as one Hydra had taught to keep cameras from seeing him. The man climbed into a car, threw it into gear and drove. “Jarvis get me that licenses plate.” Tony said.

“Already done sir. The car is registered to Dorothy Baxter and was reported stolen this morning. It has been recovered abandoned in an alley.”

“Any feed where it was found?” Tony asked, pushing a hand through his hair. 

“None sir. The location seems to have been picked for it's isolation.”

“Video of him driving there.”

“He avoided roads with traffic cameras. The few he past through he kept his head down to avoid detection.”

His eyes closed as he listened to Jarvis and Tony. They were not dealing with some punk kid just trying to be an ass. Everything the man had done was textbook Hydra training. Plus the Hydra tracker. “Don't we need to break that tracker?” He asked. He remembered Hydra introducing chips that could listen in as well as track.

“No.” Tony waved a dismissive hand at the chip. “When Steve kept getting tagged and bagged in his little search and kill missions I upgraded security to deactivate all tracking chips as they came into the building.” Tony was back to leaning over the arm. After several moments Tony looked up. “You two can go. J will keep looking and I'll keep you posted.”

He looked over at Steve. Tony's voice seemed to pull Steve out of thought. “Come on Buck.” He said calmly. He followed Steve back into the elevator. “You ok?” Steve asked softly. He shook his head quietly. Steve's fingers closed around his shoulder.

Hydra knew where he was now. Even if the chip had cut off the second he walked inside there was no question where it had stopped working. But there were times that night he'd been close to alone. It wouldn't have been hard to put him out in a crowd, just use the knockout trigger and drag him away before anyone was the wiser. The man had to engage to put the chip in which is why he hadn't taken him there. They were playing a long game. He closed his eyes and tried to think of the strategy meetings he'd seen, the folders he had read but he was never a long game operative. He was too much of a risk on long missions. No. That wasn't true. He'd been in the Red Room months. Why then had Pierce always insisted he needed fast missions? The Red Room he'd been monitored, surrounded by assassins training to put him out. He- 

“Buck?”

Steve's voice made him jump. He was standing in the elevator which was open to their apartment. Steve had stepped out and turned watching him. “Yeah. Sorry.” He followed. 

“It's gonna be ok Buck. I'm going to forward this stuff to Nat and we will get it figured out okay? Try not to worry.”

He realized he wasn't worried. Not really. Instead a bone deep feeling of resignation settled over him. It was like he'd been aware deep in his mind this day would come. Hydra would take him back. This was just a shore leave, a brief stop before returning to have his mind run through the blender. That thought sent his heart hammering. The pain. The feeling someone was breaking open his skull and poking around and then nothing. The sharp buzz of silence filling his mind. His mind that constantly struggled to remember even though it hurt. 

“Bucky. Hey.” Steve's arms folded around him pulling him back to the present again. “It's ok.” Steve's fingers ran through his hair, gently brushing it away from his face. “We will get this figured out. You're safe. I'll keep you safe. I promise.” Steve's voice sounded tight. He was worried to. 

The weight of the day and of the unfolding events landed on his body. At once everything felt tight and uncomfortable, like his skin was shrinking. He felt completely unmoored. In the back of his mind, past all the fear and exhaustion his mind recognized the feeling. He opened and closed his hands. He needed Steve to take over, needed Steve to call the shots. He opened his mouth but closed it again. He couldn't seem to make the words come to explain what he needed. He tried again but his mind felt blank. Taking a slow breath he dropped to his knees. He knelt, back straight, head down, arms folded behind his back and waited.

Each second seemed to drag by as he waited for Steve to speak. What if Steve didn't want this? Didn't want him? It had already been such a long day and Steve was already so tired. He'd already made Steve have to get dragged down to Tony's lab due to his carelessness and now instead it letting Steve relax he was making hi- Steve's fingers brushed gently through his hair quieting his mind some. Steve's hand closed and he tugged gently until his head tipped back and he could look into Steve's eyes. Steve's eyes searched his for a moment.

“Stand.” Steve commanded. A rush of relief flooded his senses and he jumped to follow. “Strip.” He did. Each breath felt like it came easier as calm filled mind helping push away the frantic flow of thoughts. It took only a few moments before he stood in a pile of clothes.

Steve's hand moved up to his hair again but this time he grabbed a fistful and pulled. It wasn't enough to hurt but it definitely stung and a soft whimper slipped past his lips before he could stop it. His eyes snapped to Steve but he didn't look angry. “Pick up your clothes, fold them neatly and bring them with you to the bedroom.”

“Yes, sir.” Steve smiled and released the hold on his hair. Steve's fingers stroked gently over his face before he turned for the bedroom. He bent and grabbed the clothes before carefully folding then and following Steve.

He placed the folded clothes on the dresser before crossing to stand in front of Steve. Steve smiled easily but there was tiredness just past the expression. He was immediately reminded how tired Steve had to be. “Take my clothes off for me.” Steve said his words cutting through his thoughts.

He stepped forward and pulled Steve's shirt up and over his head. His eyes tracked the edge of the shirt watching as Steve's chest came into view inch by inch. His eyes snapped to the familiar scars. At least there were some he wasn't responsible for. He tried not to look at the ones he'd caused which seemed to only draw his eyes there more 

His eyes landed on the bullet wounds, the scars faintly pink and puckered from the day on the helicarriers. A few inches over. Steve had been so lucky he'd missed. He yelped in surprise as Steve pinched the soft skin at the back of his upper arm. He'd been so focused on the scars he'd not even seen Steve's hand move. Steve raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. 

He folded the shirt and knelt in front of Steve. He carefully popped the button surprised in spite of everything to find Steve half hard. He tugged Steve's pants down to his knees before tentatively palming Steve's cock through the man's boxers. Steve purred grinding into the touch. He felt heat immediately begin to pool between his own legs at the sound. Carefully he pulled Steve's pants down so the other man could step out of them and folded them deliberately before setting them aside.

He went still, waiting until Steve's bright blue eyes tipped down to meet his. Holding Steve's gaze he leaned forward and sucked the head of Steve's cock through his boxers. Steve's eyes drifted closed and another soft moan slipped from his lips. He could feel Steve filling under his lips.

Steve's hand was back in his hair, pulling him back. “Did I say you could suck on me brat?” Steve said his voice firm. 

He grinned before looking up at Steve through his eyes lashes. “No sir.” He said in a croon that used to drive Steve nuts. Steve was remarkably better at holding it together than when they were younger but he still caught the flicker of need as it flashed over Steve's features. 

Steve squeezed a bit harder then released his hair. He had half a mind to return immediately to sucking at Steve. But as much as he knew that kind of desperation drove Stevie wild he'd much rather not have the material there. He leaned in to press one final kiss through the fabric. He eased the fabric down and Steve's cock sprung out to bump against his lips. He turned his eyes back to Steve. Steve was watching him closely. He licked his lips, before flicking his tongue out to lap at the beads of slick just starting to well up.

Careful to continue moving the material inch by inch down Steve's legs he took a breath and sucked Steve in until the blunt head of Steve's cock bumped the back of his throat. He couldn't help but smile around him as Steve let out a strangled shout. He couldn't get in trouble. He  _ was _ still undressing Steve. He'd just worked the fabric past the swell of Steve's ass. His tongue worked gently at the slit and at the pile of nerves just below the head. His thumbs lazily stroked over Steve's ass as he continued to undress him in the absolute lowest way possible.

“Bucky.” Steve's tone was firm, not quite an order. He hallowed his cheeks and began moving. Three bobs in Steve grabbed his hair and pulled. “Bucky. Bucky! Stop.” Steve pulled him off with an audible pop. “I'm not. We.” Steve's eyes closed and he took a slow breath. “We are not doing this right now. You've had a shitty day and-”

“ _ You've _ had a shitty day.” He countered.

“Bucky stop. I can't right now. I need to be focused on yo-”

“No.” He said, eyes locking into Steve's and pulling the boxers down the rest of the way with a tug. He knew somewhere behind the comfortable fog of following orders that he sounded petulant. He didn't care. 

“What do you mean no?” Steve looked genuinely confused.

“You've taken care of me for more than a year. It's your turn. Don't make me tie you to the bed like that time you got pneumonia three times in a month.” And with a grin he licked a stripe from under Steve's balls clear to the tip of his leaking cock. Steve groaned. Watching Steve's reaction as best he could from his position he sucked one of Steve's balls into his mouth. His tongue lapped as he sucked gently.

“Bed.” That was definitely an order he was happy to follow. He pulled back gently, careful to keep his teeth out of the way as he released Steve.

“Gonna fuck me Stevie?” He purred. 

In spite of the brief distraction Steve's eyes were blown wide and breathing hard. “You…are an ass.” Steve panted, lightly slapping his ass as he retreated for the bed. 

“You like my ass.” He threw back over his shoulder before leaning over the bed with his elbows on the mattress. Looking over his shoulder he wiggled his ass at Steve. Steve rolled his eyes and crossed to the bed. 

Steve's hand pressed on the back of his neck and pushed forcing him into the mattress. “I was planning,” Steve squeezed the back of his neck. “for us to come to bed,” squeeze “and relax,” squeeze, “cuddle and decompress,” squeeze squeeze, “after a shitty day.” Steve released the back of his neck to trail a feather light touch down the groove of his spine. “But since you are insistent that we not do that..” Steve's hands squeezed his ass. He leaned back into the touch as a soft sigh escaped his lips. “Then I want to to get as comfortable as you can like that because you're going to be there awhile.” And Steve's hands fell away. He could hear Steve's footsteps as he crossed the room.

“What?” He demanded. 

“You need to remember who gives the orders here. And besides you look too amazing right now not to draw.”

Frustration welled up in his chest. He didn't want to be still. He didn't want to pose he wanted movement and action  _ and pain _ . The last thought took him by surprise. He didn't really want pain. Some weird part of his brain misfiring not anything he'd really-

“You ready?” Steve's voice pulled him back to the command. He moved his arms so he could pillow his head on them. He stood on his tiptoes and lifted his hips so his cock was pressed between his stomach and the mattress instead of pressing into the side of the mattress. 

“Yes sir.” He stared at the wall trying to grasp the soft fuzzy feelings he normally got through following orders. Boredom creeped into his mind. “Can I talk?” He asked.

Unsurprisingly the reply took a moment, “Are you hurting?”

“No, I-”

“Do you need to do to the bathroom?”

“No.”

“Hush.”

His eyes closed as frustration bloomed with renewed vigor. His fingers found a line of stitching in the comforter and he picked at it absently.

“Bucky.” There was a warning in Steve's voice. With a huff he fell still. The next time Steve scolded him he hadn't even realized he was moving until Steve's voice froze him once more. The third time he let out a grunt of frustration.

He heard Steve stand and cross the room. “Do we need to stop?” Steve asked. “Because if we do, I won't be mad.”

“No.” He grumbled into the mattress.

Steve's hand pressed on the middle of his back and pushed him firmly into the mattress. “Do I need to remind you that when I give an order I expect it to be followed?”

“No.” He was aware he was back to sounding petulant but fuck it he was horny. He wanted  _ something. _

Steve's tone changed, softening. “Buck. I'm not just doing this to be an ass.” Steve's hand dropped away from his back. Steve moved behind him and grabbed his hips. “I'm doing it,” Steve's dick, still rock hard, ground softly against the cleft of his ass, “because we both need to be in a different space mentally before we have sex. I need some time to get back to being me and with the day you have I'm sure you do to.” He found himself nodding. “So, I expect you to be  _ still _ . Not because you want to but because that's an order. Understood?” 

“Yes sir.” 

He heard Steve moving away. He let his eyes drop closed. He pulled in a breath so deep he was certain his lungs filled his whole body for a moment. Each breath felt easier. When had the tightness in his chest started? Each breath seemed to expand the warm fog in his mind.

He wasn't sure how long he remained like that before a warm hand rested on the small of his back. He felt a stream of soft kisses and nips peppering how back and shoulders. Pulling in a long breath he let it out in a hum of happiness.

Steve moved down his spine. He lifted up on his toes trying to get Steve closer to his ass. “Please?” He asked. The words were muffled by the sheet but Steve seemed to hear anyway. He heard the familiar pop of the lube. “No fingers?” The words came out as a whine. Steve paused for several seconds. A whisper of doubt formed in the pit of his stomach but then something lined up against him. 

“Relax.” Steve commanded, “and breathe.” He forced all his muscles to relax and pulled in a breath. Steve pressed in. Pain bloomed through his body. He scrabbled at the sheets trying to find a way to escape the self imposed pain. “Breath.” The command cut through his panic. He pulled in a deep breath, then another and the pain lessened. “Relax.” He tried. Every nerve in him still screamed to escape.

Steve was moving again. This time he forced himself to breath. The pain coupled with the overwhelming fullness threatened to overcome his brain.  _ You asked for this. _ He shoved that thought away.

Steve didn't still until he was set all the way in. The pain faded to a burning which then faded into a dull ache. Steve's fingers ran over his back as he relaxed. “Ready?” Steve asked. He nodded into the sheets.

Steve's hands tightened on his hips, pulled back until just the very tip still remained in him, then slammed forward. The force of the thrust ground him into the bed. His cock throbbed painfully still trapped been himself and the mattress. He was surprised to realize that while he'd been overcome with pain his cock had not only stayed hard enough to pound nails he could feel slick coating his stomach.  _ You liked it _ . A wave of self disgust tried to roll over him but the punishing pace Steve was setting pushed it away. They had just started and already he was dancing on the edge of finishing.

“Stevie. Stevie close.” He whimpered. 

“Aww poor Buck.” Steve crooned not breaking rhythm. In spite of the massive fullness Steve was carefully thrusting to avoid hitting his prostate. He whined, trying to squirm and correct the angle. Even without he could feel the heat starting to build in his stomach. 

“Stevie.” He begged.

“Almost..there.” Steve grunted. Steve shifted slightly, and tagged his prostate. That was all it took. The world closed in around him until he could experience nothing but the waves of pleasure as he came. Distantly he was aware of Steve's thrusts stuttering and slowing to a stop at he finished. Steve draped over him. 

“If I have fucking rug burn on my cock.” He grumbled.

“Then it will be your fault ass.” Steve said from above him.

“'et me up. Wanna get clean.” He said pressing his hands into the mattress and lifting them both easily before dropping back to the bed. Steve grumbled but stood and pulled him up and into a kiss. A quick shower later they both sat on the bed.

“Hey Stevie, can we talk?” He asked. All the warm fuzz had drained from his brain leaving his stomach a massive ball of knots.

“Sure Buck. What's up?” Steve smiled over at him.

“About what you said. At the ceremony. About the suicide stuff.”

“Oh.” The smile fell away. Steve shifted, pulling his knees up and draping his arms over them. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Do you still. I mean. You. Are you still...thinking stuff like that?”  _ Smooth _ . 

Steve sighed his brow knit. “Full disclosure?” Steve addressed the opposite wall. “Yeah sometimes. Not like to do it but.” He sighed again. “My therapist says it's normal for someone who has been through.” Steve gestured vaguely. “It's not anything I ever plan on acting on though. Suicidal ideation.” He shrugged and fell silent.

“Anything I can do to help?” He asked quietly.

“I said I'm not going to act on it.” Steve said tensely. 

He sighed. This side of Steve hadn't changed, the side that would rather come to blows than talk about anything he considered a personal weakness. He closed his eyes trying to determine how to word the next question. With Steve it was just best to be blunt “Is it because of me or the war? Or because of being frozen?” 

Steve launched out of bed like someone lit a firecracker under his ass. “Damn it Buck!” He snapped before pacing the length of the room and back. Bending he grabbed his clothes and began to roughly yank them on. 

“What are you doing Steve?”

“Going for a run.” Steve snapped.

“No.” He put every bit of conviction he could into his tone. He'd seen this before and they were kids and the conversation got too deep but back then it didn't matter if Steve went running he wasn't getting far. Now who knows when he'd stop. He stood and crossed to the door. “Stay Steve, we need to talk. 

Steve managed to get dressed, though his clothes looked dramatically worse for wear after the rough treatment. Steve crossed the room to stand in front of him. Steve drew himself up to his full high, shoulders squared. “I ain't moving Stevie.” 

“Don't make me move you. I am going for a fucking run. This is your fucking fault now move.” Steve shoved his shoulder. 

“I'm not moving Stevie.” He repeated.

The tick in Steve's jaw gave him more than enough early warning to know the punch was coming. He ducked it and shoved Steve back into the room before squaring up in front of the door again. He was relieved to see that anger and panic still destroyed Steve's fighting ability. While he was confident he could take Steve fighting at his best he much preferred neither of them ending up broken or bloody.

Steve tried six more times to get a punch in. Each time he easily blocked or dodged the swing and pushed Steve back. “It's fucking everything okay?” Steve shouted from the middle of the room where he'd stumbled after the last shove. “You'd have been alive if it wasn't for me. Everyone I knew, dead. Not just dead forgotten! Forgotten by a generation who just didn't give a damn! They thawed me out spent a week telling me how the world works then threw me out on my own. Then fucking Loki came and I had a team again but then the threat was gone so the team was gone too. Couldn't eat. Couldn't fucking sleep! The eyes and the nightmares and waking up alone night after night. What was the point? Why did I even survive? So yeah. I got low but you know what? I fucking pulled through and I don't need fucking reminded of it now! Get the fuck out of my way!!”

Steve stumbled to stand in front of him and threw another punch. He didn't have to dodge for the swing to miss. He pulled Steve into a hug. He knew this part too but he wasn't letting Steve run off to the bathroom to cry alone. He folded them into the floor, pulling Steve's head to his chest. For several moments Steve sat stone still then with a strangled sound he began to cry. Steve's hands clung to him with enough force to bruise as tears soaked his bare chest. “It's ok Stevie. I'm here. Just let it out.” His fingers played quietly through Steve's hair as the other man sobbed.

Slowly the sobs softened into sniffling tears and then to hiccups. Steve lurched up suddenly. Steve took a deep breath then crossed to their laundry basket to grab a towel and wipe his face. He stood, watching Steve's movements. He didn't fully trust Steve not to break for the door. “Come back to bed okay Stevie?” He said cautiously. 

Steve nodded. His shoulders were hunched like just the effort of standing was overwhelming. He crossed back to the bed and sat. Steve followed, curling up and resting with Steve's head on his thigh. He combed through Steve's hair. “Do you still have the nightmares?” He asked info the silence.

“Sometimes.” Steve's voice was heartbreakingly small in that moment. 

“I think. I think I've been relying too much on Tony and going down to the lab when I wake up. I should be here with you.”

“Bucky I'm fine.” That sounded more like the Steve he knew. “I don't need you to stay up here in the off chance I have a bad dream. I'm not a kid okay? I don't need someone to run to every time I wake up in the dark. Going to the lab helps you. I don't want you to stop doing what works ‘cause you think I need it.”

“Would you be ok if I had a bad dream and woke you up?” He asked, completely ignoring Steve's rant.

“Bucky you know I would be perfectly okay if-”

“Good. Then when I have a nightmare I will wake you up. When you have one I expect you to do the same okay? I need to get on a not Tony like sleep schedule anyway.”

Steve was quiet long enough he wasn't expecting an answer so he was surprised by the quiet “Okay.” that came from Steve several minutes later.

“I love you Stevie.”

“Love you too Buck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

November 24

In spite of Tony and Jarvis's best efforts the man who had spoken in his ear had not turned up on any surveillance since dumping the car on Veteran's Day. Steve had spent days trying to find any evidence of any of the Hydra bases returning to operation but he too came up empty. In the end they had been forced to accept that until the man tried something else that the trail was cold.

It had taken a solid week to get his body used to sleeping past three. Steve had nightmares a lot more often than he'd let on so they spent most mornings awake soothing each other. 

He stretched not completely willing to get up just yet. “We didn't tell them  _ when _ we would get there.” He moaned into his pillow. Steve poked out of the bathroom door.

“Still I would rather get there before midnight.” Steve quipped before disappearing. He groaned. They had agreed to fly to Clint's for Thanksgiving since they hadn't seen them in months. He was looking forward to seeing them too. That didn't mean he wanted to move. “I will pour water on you.” Steve called in a sing song voice from the bathroom door.

“I'll fucking murder you.” He replied in an equally cheery tone. Still he knew Steve would act on the threat so he at least sat up. If he could see him coming he could probably dodge it. 

When Steve poked his head around the door again he lobbed a pillow at him. Steve laughed as the pillow bounced off the door. “Come on Buck. If you're gonna shower you need to now.” Steve said from behind the safety of the wall.

He groaned and dropped back into the bed. He heard the bathroom door open and sifted quickly to be sure Steve wasn't trying to sneak up with a glass of water. He couldn't help but smile at the sight that greeted him. Steve was still completely naked and only half dried off from the shower. He came to stand a few feet away from the bed arms folded. “Do I need to make it an order?” Steve all but purred. 

He groaned and sat up. “Teasing me  _ and _ making me get up isn't fair.” He complained.

“Aww.” Steve pulled on his pants before crossed to stand in front of him. He dropped his head until his forehead landed on Steve's chest. Steve's hands ran up his back kneading softly. He groaned pushing back into Steve's hands. “You still wanna go?” Steve asked quietly as he massaged a sore spot at the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” He said easily. “Just having a hard time wanting to move.”

Steve hummed, the sound vibrating where his forehead still pressed into Steve's chest. “Well pal, that's either cause you're sleeping, feeling lazy, or are depressed.”

He huffed against Steve's chest. “Any way to tell the difference?” He tipped his chin forward to press a kiss into Steve's chest.

“I've always had a hard time telling to be honest.” Steve's fingers moved up into his hair massaging at the base of his scalp. “Feeling anything else besides don't wanna move?” He shrugged. “Come on Buck. Tryin’ to help ya.”

He sighed. “Uhh not really? I think I slept ok? I don't remember waking up any. I am excited to see our friends.” 

“Then sounds like you're just being lazy, punk.” Steve pushed him back into the bed and crawled up him. A moan slipped through his lips as Steve pressed into him, grinding them together. His cock, which had already half filled seeing Steve naked and dripping, immediately took notice. He shifted, getting comfortable before moving to meet Steve's lazy thrusts the cloth of Steve’s pants dragging perfectly over him. And then the were gone. Steve was walking away.

“Can't have you thinking I'm rewarding  _ laziness. _ ” Steve called over his shoulder. 

“You fucking asshole!” He snarled as he lurched up after Steve. Steve covered the distance to the bathroom and stomped in ready to shove Steve. 

He let out a grunt as Steve shoved him hard into the wall. Steve's smile boarded on predatory as he stepped into his space. “What's wrong Buck?” Steve asked as Steve's fingers ran from his check, down over his chest before resting on his stomach. 

“Stevie.” He whined which only made Steve's smile wider. Steve leaned in, pressing kisses over his face and neck before dropping to his knees. He barely had time to process the change before the warm heat of Steve's mouth wrapped around him. Steve's hands grabbed his hips and held him against the wall with a grip firm enough to bruise. 

He let his head drop back against the wall with a thump as Steve began to move at an agonizingly slow speed. The drag of his lips were somehow too much and yet not enough. He felt a whine slip through his lips. 

The whisper of a memory echoed through his mind. Reaching forward he grabbed Steve's hair. Steve stilled eyes lifting up to watch. “Please Stevie?” He asked, still only half aware what it was he was even asking. 

Steve's eyes seemed to bore into him. After several long moments Steve's hands fell away from his hips. Steve straightened though his lips stayed tightly wrapped around his cock. Steve quit fidgeting and folded his arms behind him. In response his mind provided a picture, a snapped moment in time, of a much smaller Steve knelt before him arms behind his back. It made sense that he only had the one memory of it. It would have been damn near impossible getting Steve to let anyone, even him, take charge when they were kids.

He shifted his hold, careful that he wasn't pulling any hair painfully he pulled Steve's head back. Steve went willing, the bright blue eyes fixed on his face.  _ That _ was new and somehow made the sensation feel impossibly more intense.

He started slow, keeping his eyes on Steve's just in case Steve choked but slowly picked up speed. “You look so amazing like this.” He ground out. Steve hollowed his cheeks in response and he groaned at the sensation. Between the teasing earlier and the perfect picture of submission Steve now presented he was already getting close. He dropped his head back his eyes falling closed. His mind filled with fantasies of Steve on his knees for him.

“Shit!” His head snapped back up. “Steve, close.” He warned forcing open his eyes to watch Steve's face. Steve's eyes held his a moment before drifting shut. Steve hollowed his cheeks, sucking again. He came with a grunt. Steve moved then, hands coming up to help brace him on the wall.

When he felt like he could breathe again he opened his eyes. Steve still knelt. His hands had returned to behind his back. Steve's lips were red, his hair stuck out at odd angles. “Fuck Stevie.” he groaned. 

Reaching forward he used his thumb to wipe up a bit of his come that had dipped from the corner of Steve's mouth. Before he could draw his hand back Steve's mouth wrapped around his thumb. Steve's tongue circled his thumb, cleaning away the last of the evidence. Steve's eyes met his again. Steve's hot tongue began to lap over the tip of his thumb, teasing. 

He slipped his thumb from Steve's lips before gently stroking Steve's cheek. He was aware he should tell Steve to stand up, that they should be getting ready. He even opened his mouth to say as much but his eyes fell to Steve's cock, straining against his pants. 

He used his foot to nudge Steve's legs apart and rub at him gently through his pants. “Stay here.” He said before bending to press a kiss into Steve's forehead. He slipped into the bedroom and grabbed the lube from the side table before returning back to the bathroom. Steve had done as he asked, remaining still where he knelt.

He sat on the cool floor next to Steve. Reaching out to unfasten Steve's pants he stilled when Steve's hands moved to help. He swatted them away gently. Steve went still and their eyes met. He waited to see if Steve was going to let him continue to control the situation.

It took several long moments but Steve's hands returned to their resting point behind his back. “So good.” He whispered as he pressed a kiss into Steve's lips.

Carefully he freed Steve from his pants. “Let me know when you get close.” He told Steve who nodded. Steve's cock was already dark pink, it wasn't going to take long. He slicked up his hand he wrapped his fingers around Steve. 

It only took a few minutes before Steve's muscles were starting to twitch as Steve fought the urge to pump into his hand. “Bucky. Cl-” Steve's words ended in a groan as he dropped his hand away completely. Steve didn't manage to prevent his hips jerking forward as he frantically searched for the lost contact. 

He waited several long seconds to see if Steve would keep his hands in place. He could see the muscles in Steve's arm jump as he opened and closed his hands but he kept them behind him. “So good Stevie. So amazing.” He murmured. 

He wrapped his hand back around Steve. It took much less time for Steve to whimper his warning. Again he dropped Steve altogether. He'd only planned to stop once just to see if Steve could manage to still meet him have control but watching the emotions play across Steve's face was intoxicating. Watching those moments where Steve knew he could finish himself but instead remained still to let him control the pleasure.

The third time it took  _ maybe _ a full minute before Steve was warning him. Steve let out a long whine when he dropped his hand that time. He pressed a kiss into Steve's lips. Steve was slow to return the affection. He wondered if Steve got that same fuzzy static feeling he had when Steve took control. He had assumed it was a byproduct of the mind control. In fact he felt a lot of the same feelings when Steve took control as he did after a wipe. But if Steve got that way too.

“Bucky please?” Steve whined. He pressed one more kiss into Steve's lips before returning his hand to Steve's cock. In less than a minute Steve spoke. “Buck, close.” He didn't stop moving. “Bucky. Buck. Close. Gonna.” Steve's words increased in speed and franticness.

“It's ok Stevie. I've got you.” He said with a smile. Steve's eyes met his for a moment before snapping shut. Steve's head fell back, his mouth was open in a silent shout as he came. He would never stop enjoying watching Steve fall apart. Steve's whole body curled in on itself from the force of the orgasm. He could feel his own cock trying to fill again in response. He continued stroking until the last few spurts of come splattered the tiles. Releasing Steve's cock he peppered Steve's lips and face with kisses and waited for Steve to collect himself.

“Jesus Buck.” Steve whispered finally lifting his head. Steve's pupils were still blown wide 

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“'m fuzzy?” Steve mumbled. 

So it was the same then. He frowned, unsure what that meant for either of them. Had Steve actually been mind controlled and just never knew it? How could you be unaware of something like that?

“Where’s the fuck d’you learn edging?” Steve said pulling him from his thoughts.

“I. What? Come on, I think we could both use a shower.” He stood and offered his hand. Steve allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He started the shower and pulled Steve in with him. He wrapped his arms around Steve and held him close as the warm water covered them. 

By the time they got out Steve seemed mostly back to normal. He waited until Steve was dressed and he was gathering clothes before asking. “So what is edging?” 

Steve looked surprised. “What you just did? The stopping and starting thing?” He couldn't help but grin at the whispers of pink around Steve's ears when he spoke. 

“Oh. I didn't realize there was a name for it. I did it by accident once when I was a kid. Was rubbing one off and got close when Ma knocked on the door for dinner. I was so close but I had to stop to talk to her then when I finished it was the best feeling I'd ever had. Started doing it on purpose after that.”

Steve nodded, “Yeah there's a name for everything now. You ready to go?” 

He nodded. “You ok to fly?” He knew the feelings he had of fuzziness tended to last a while.

“I'm good.” Steve pulled him in for a long slow kiss before pulling him towards the elevator.

The trip to the farm felt quicker than last time. The fact there was a quinjet already waiting for them on the helipad helped. “Shouldn't we have brought something?” He asked as they landed, realizing his Ma would have popped him with a spoon if he'd ever shown to to a Thanksgiving empty handed.

“I asked and asked but Clint insisted they didn't need us to get anything.” Steve said. He'd watched Steve closely but the fuzziness seemed to be gone. Steve had been totally normal the whole trip.

As he came around the edge of the quinjet ramp movement caught his eye. Clint was riding a massive black horse. Immediately following were Cooper and Lila both on regular sized horses of their own. “Hey!” Clint called.

“Damn Clint. Where were you hiding these guys last time?” He asked as he crossed to stand next to the huge horse. He offered his hand and the horse snuffled it. It's whiskers tickled his plam. Reaching up he scratched the horses massive cheek then began scratching down it's neck. The horse dropped his head, bumping his chest before stilling to enjoy the attention.

“They are new. I've started doing some planting. Gus,” Clint patted the horse,” is helping with that some since the tractor doesn't do well in the cold anymore. Then the kids wanted their own so we have,” Clint pointed to the horse Cooper rode, “Arrow,” then pointing at Lila's horse, “and Wildfire.”

Arrow was dark grey with white flecks over his body. Wildfire was brown with black legs and a black nose. Gus bumped him as he lifted his head. The horse's cheek bumped his head as Gus looked behind him. Turning to look where Gus was he saw Steve about 10 feet back where he had stopped. “Steve come here.” He called. 

Steve shook his head. “I'm good.” Cooper and Lila pulled their horses around and took off towards the house.

“Brush them off good before you go in” Clint called over his shoulder at them.

He walked over to Steve and pulled his arm. “Come on. They are friendly.”

“Bucky stop.” Steve said pulling back.

“They aren't gonna hurt you.” He pulled again.

“Bucky stop.” This time there was definitely an order in his tone. He stilled. Had Steve ever even been around horses? He'd been around them twice when he has visited his family upstate but Steve had never come with him. 

“Just come pet one.” He said softly, changing tactics. “I'll stay with you.”

Steve looked torn between punching him for insisting and bolting off. He took Steve's hand and took a step towards Gus, waiting. Slowly Steve took a step forward. It took a few minutes but finally Steve at least stood close enough to touch Gus. Clint was looking highly amused at the whole situation. “Never been around horses there Steve?” He asked.

“I grew up in Brooklyn. Where exactly do you think I would have encountered horses?” Steve grumbled.

Clint laughed. “That's fair. Gus is an old sweetheart though.”

Bucky pulled Steve's hand over to rest on Gus’s neck. Steve flinched but didn't pull his hand back. “See?” He smiled at Steve. As soon as he let go Steve dropped his hand and took a step back.

“He's not gonna hurt you.” he laughed, pulling Steve closer again. “Pet him or I'm putting you on his back.” He said pulling his voice as close as he could to the orders Steve gave.

“You better fucking not.” Steve said but all the same he reached a tensive hand up to touch Gus's neck again. “Why is he so huge?”

“He's a Clydesdale horse. They are bred to be big to be able to pull heavy loads.” Clint explained.

“Feels different than I expected. More coarse?” Steve said hesitantly. “Can I?” He reached up towards the mane. “Like will it get mad?” 

“Unless you smack him he ain't gonna get mad Stevie” 

Steve reached up to feel Gus's mane. “That feels weird.” Steve stepped back. “I'm good. Thank you.” 

He considered pressing more but the line of Steve's mouth told him he was really done. Clint must have seen it too as he pulled Gus around. “See you back at the house?” He asked before nudging Gus forward.

“Since when are you afraid of horses?” He asked bumping shoulders with Steve as they walked down the hill towards the house. 

“Not scared. Just don't like 'em that's all.” Steve grumbled. As they approached the house he saw Natalia on the front porch. She was sitting on a rocking chair holding a bundle that he could only guess to be Nathaniel.

“Hey boys.” She called as they approached. “I guess Clint owes me 20 bucks. He bet they would con you two into the parade this morning.” She said with a smile as they climbed the porch. 

He cringed as he stepped on a squeaky board. “Shit sorry.” 

She smiled. “Are you kidding? He's got two siblings. They are constantly screaming and stomping around while he's asleep. You're fine.”

“How have you been Nat?” Steve asked with a smile.

“Things have been good. Peaceful.” she smiled at them both. 

“I'm gonna head in and see if there is anything I can do to help out. Coming Buck?” 

“Yeah one sec.” Steve nodded and opened the front door which creaked far louder then the step. The bundle didn't even stir. “So I hate to disturb the peace.” He said, a pang of guilt spreading in his chest. “But if you can I’d like some help with something.” He watched her shift, the subtle changes in her posture as she listened. “I ran into Hydra on Veteran's Day. Or at least someone with Hydra tech. He slipped up behind me and cut a subdermal tracker into my shoulder. He hit a nerve line so it was fried well before we got it out. We got some surveillance but he kept his head away from the cameras. Stole and dumped a car. No DNA, no fingerprints.”

She paused for a moment. “You said he chipped you. Those normally hurt but it was your left arm? That's how you didn't feel it.”

“No I felt it. He came up and whispered in my ear that I'm the reason his parents are dead. He squeezed my arm hard enough to bruise. By the time I'd turned he'd disappeared into the crowd.”

“You're the reason? But not you killed them?”

“Everyone gets stuck in that. I think he just misspoke.”

“That's a pretty deliberate phrase. I can… Can you hand me my phone?” She glanced over her shoulder to the window sill where her phone sat. “Actually, can you take him?” She stood. Carefully he drew the bundle into his arms and sat where she had been. Nathaniel stirred slightly at the change but as he rocked the child settled back down. “So families the Winter Soldier killed just the parents, leaving a child.” Natalia turned. “Hey guys, go wash up, we will be in in a minute.” Cooper and Lila had been walking up the path but when Natalia called them they ran up and into the house. A few moments later Clint walked by. He paused his eyes on Natalia. 

“Everything ok?”

Natalia smiled. “Yeah. We are okay. Bucky wanted my help with some Hydra files.” 

Clint raised an eyebrow. “They aren't back are they?” 

“Doubt it. Sounds like the work of either a copycat or a lone operative. Tell Laura I will be in to help with potatoes in a few.” Clint hesitated watching Natalia eyes. He stepped over and pulled her into a hug which she returned easily. 

“If things go to not okay, let me know?” Clint asked his chin resting on her head.

“Yeah, I will.” 

Clint nodded. Clint's hand squeezed his shoulder as he walked into the house. Natalia turned back to her phone. “There were…three families. Two the children were daughters. The other three child would be…Seventy six. I don't think that is your man. I think you're looking at this wrong. Give me your shoulder.” See squeezed hard. “Was that even close to the pressure he used to make a bruise?”

“No.”

“We aren't looking at someone who was a victim. How many others were in the Winter Soldier program?” 

His heart skipped a beat. He licked his lips before speaking. “Five others.” 

“Any idea where they are?”

His eyes closed. “Russia.”

Natalia looked exasperated. “City? Coordinates? Something?”

“I...I have coordinates.”

“Type them.” She held out the phone.

“Give me a few hours. I will see if I can't get into the security feed. Does Steve know about the others?” He shook his head. “Does Tony know?” Again he shook his head. “Well, no reason to worry till I can figure things out. Come on let's go help.”

He tried not to think about the implications of Natalia's hunch as Laura after greeting him with a hug set him to work. It was almost four hours later when Natalia called him and Steve to the front porch. “You need to bring Steve up to speed.” She said as soon as they stepped out.

“Up to spe…?” Steve looked at him letting his words trail off. 

He closed his eyes. “I wasn't the only one in the Winter Soldier program.” He started quietly. “In 1992 they made five more with the idea of us bring a squad. The serum was wrong though. They weren't controllable. In the end they were locked in cryo in Russia.”

Steve looked stunned. “Why are we just now talking about this?” 

“I had forgotten.” Had he? When Natalia had mentioned he it knew right away but had he remembered before? “Or maybe just didn't want to remember.”

Natalia passed her phone over. He felt Steve looking over his shoulder. The feed was grainy and dark but he recognized the room. Six cryo pods all in a half circle. His, the one in the middle sat empty. The one to the left was also empty. He felt his stomach roll. “It looks like he escaped two years ago when his cryopod failed. He killed everyone at the facility then every other Winter Soldier. The footage jumped to a man climbing from pod. Scientists and soldiers swarmed him. Within a minute he'd stolen a gun. He killed every soldier and scientist in the room then standing in the middle of the circle he shot each of the other Winter Soldiers then the camera. Their feed went gray.

He passed the phone back to Natalia why spoke “There wasn't a name on file but I can send this to-”

“Josef.”

“What?” She asked.

“His name. Josef.”

“What else do you know about him?”

“He was one of Hyda's elite. Born and raised in the organization. The leader of the force they were assembling. He could have killed me and everyone there probably before anyone knew what was happening so why…”

“I don't think you were the intended target. Most of your Hydra kills were will before this guy's time. After you fell Steve and I worked together to wipe the rest of Hydra out. Honestly there's a much better chance he's after Steve or I and just using you as a way to try to track us down.”

“Steve was there. He could have gone after him.”

“Could he? In a park surrounded by hundreds of police and security. Even at his best that would have been too much and he doesn't look his best. If you compare that footage to the park he looks like he's lost almost all his weight and muscle mass. Howard's serum was volatile both mentally and physically. It is likely it's killing him based on the cryo readouts before it crashed.”

“So he may be dead and that's why he's dropped off the radar?” 

“It's a possibility. I've sent the information to Tony along with information about the program so he knew where Howard's serum went.” He nodded making a point to avoid Tony just in case.

“Thank you for checking Natalia. You are the best.” She smiled. 

“I'll keep watch in my channels but until he shows up again I think it's safe enough to assume he's dead.”

Steve pulled him into a hug each he was more than happy to return. The weight that had been building since he'd spoken to Natalia faded away. 

“Food's ready.” Clint called from inside the house. They all filled in. Laura passed out them each a plate before encouraging them to fill their plates. 

“We will have to sit in the living room to eat.” She said as they lined up for food. The table was piled so high you could barely see the wood around the dishes. He managed to squeeze a bit of everything into his plate before following Steve into the living room. They sat on the love seat leaving the couch open for Laura, Clint, and Natalia.

Everything he ate seemed to taste better than the last. He half kept up with conversation as it flowed around him. The kids chattered about friends and things that happened in school effectively filling any lulls in the conversation. 

By his third plate he was pretty confident he might explode if he ate anything else until a timer dinged and Laura announced that the pies were done. He managed to eat a slice of pumpkin pie before he had to drop back against the couch in defeat. His eyes kept drifting closed. He was about to stand to try to move around and wake to when Clint spoke. “Okay you kids either go nap or keep it down. All us old people are going to take a nap.”

He sat up rubbing his face. Steve was asleep next to him. He rubbed Steve's arm and Steve jumped awake. “Hrmmf.” 

He smirked. “Come on, let's go lay down.” Steve hummed but followed him. 

“Guest room is yours. We will wake you up for dinner.” Natalia winked at him.

He might have groaned back. He pulled off his shirt and pants and crawled into the warm bed. His eyes fell shut and he was asleep.

“No!” His eyes snapped open. For a moment he didn't understand why he had awoken. Steve whimpered. He turned. Steve had curled up in a ball and was clutching his pillow so hard his knuckles were white. 

“Stevie.” He reached out, careful in case Steve came out swinging. “Hey. Come on. Just a nightmare.” He rubbed Steve's arm gently. Steve lurched up and shoved him away before curling back in on himself and shaking again. He hesitated before reaching out. “Come back Stevie. It's ok. Just a nightmare.”

He could see the moment when Steve moved from still asleep to awake and aware. All his muscles tensed as he tried to catch up to what was going on. “You with me?” He whispered.

Steve took a slow breath. “Yeah.” His voice cracked. Reaching up he pulled Steve back down. Steve curled against his chest. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve shook his head. He ran a hand up and down Steve's back absently tracing designs with his fingertips. It took awhile but he felt Steve's pulse slowly drop back to normal and his breathing evened out. “I don't think anyone else is up yet. Want to go sit on the porch?” Steve nodded.

They dressed in silence and stepped into the hall. He'd been correct the house was silent. They stepped into the porch. He stepped down there first step and sat. Steve sat next to him. 

“Really is beautiful here.” Steve said looking out over the rolling hills. The sun was beginning to sink under the horizon throwing the sky into a myriad of reds and golds. “I remember when I first saw a sunset.” Steve said quietly. “Well, first really saw one. The day they gave me the serum. I had to stay under lockdown that night after… After everything. Even though the tiny barred window it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. Then the sun rise the next morning was even better.”

“Was it weird? I know your eyes were messed up before. You were always getting colors wrong. You'd get so mad too.” He couldn't help the smile remembering Steve squaring up to him yelling when he was corrected.

“It was embarrassing!” Steve bumped into him. “Honestly I didn't realize how bad it was. I've seen pictures from back then, ones they took in black and white then kinda colored in with pastels? It was a lot like that only more grey than anything. I remember coming out of the gamma chamber in shock, everything was so bright and so clear. I could see things far away and close. Honestly though it made my head hurt for weeks. I guess my body wasn't used to it. That outfit I had to wear for the bond songs it made my head pound to look at it at first.”

“Star spangled man with a plan.” He said with a grin.

“Fuck you.” They fell quiet again. The sun was almost completely hidden now.

“Hey Buck. Can I ask you something?”

“Just did punk.” Then when Steve didn't continue, “what?”

“Do you miss women?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know. Like dates?” Steve's tone implied what he meant even if Steve himself wouldn't say it.

“Sex? With dames?” 

Steve's whole face turned pink like the sunset. “I mean you did say you were bi not gay and back then…”

He paused. Did he? “I mean, I enjoyed it then. I figure I would now? Not rushing out to find me anyone. Even if I knew a dame that was willing not sure I'd trust her anyhow.”

“There are other options you know.” They both jumped as Natalia spoke from behind them.

“Jesus Natasha what the fuck?” Steve snapped, standing. His face had gone from pink to red and his ears practically glowed. “You could announce yourself you know! We were talking about something private.”

“If it was so private you should know better than to not check your 6 before asking it.” She was grinning.

“I'm gonna go see if Laura needs any help cleaning up.” Steve said, retreating into the house.

“That was mean Natalia.” He said. Leave it to her to be able to exit a squeaky door in complete silence. “What do you mean options?”

She crossed the porch to drop next to him. “There have been some pretty big improvement to sex toys since you were last able to care about that sort of thing.” She said a smile still pulling at her lips. She pulled out her phone and tapped someone in before passing him the phone. The picture on the screen looked at first glance like a massive flashlight but instead of having a bulb the opening was modeled to look like a woman's lips. He took the phone and looked closer. It looked like it was made out of roughly the same material as his flesh arm. Natalia reached over and changed the picture. In the second shot a hand was pulling it open leaving no question what it was made for. “I've been told it feels quite lifelike.” 

“So the sensation of being with a dame, no dame required?” Natalia nodded. “If Steve face ever comes back to its normal color I'll let him know. Maybe he can finally get a girl.”

Natalia laughed.

“Hey, do you know was Steve ever brainwashed?” He asked quietly.

Natalia was quiet a moment. “Not that I'm aware of. Why?”

He hesitated only a moment before continuing. “Steve will sometimes give me orders and when he does I'll get this kind of fuzzy, floating feeling? It is a lot like how I felt after brainwashing. Only better. Much better. The only thing that mattered was the orders and everything else just wasn't important. It helps when I start getting overwhelmed Steve can tell me what to do and it helps. So when Steve did it I just assumed it was something left over from Hydra. But then this morning I was telling Steve what to do and he got that same fuzzy feeling but if he's never been brainwashed…”

Natalia was quiet another moment. “The feeling you are describing during brainwashing and what you are feeling now, are they the same or just similar?”

“I think just similar? I never really paid attention to how I felt when I was brainwashed?”

She nodded. “So, it sounds like what you are describing that's happening now is something similar to subspace. It normally happens during more...extreme circumstances but given your past it could be that you're more easily affected. It's something that can happen to anyone so no, I don't think Steve was ever brainwashed.”

“If it's normally something that takes extreme situations why would it happen to me with just getting ordered around?”

Natalia shifted to face him more. “So I am going to assume that when Steve is giving orders and you're following them, that's something you are enjoying?”

“Sometimes.” His mind returned to being told to stay still as Steve drew him. “Sometimes it's something I don't want to do.”

“But the end result is one you enjoy?” She pressed.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so subspace is caused by a cocktail of hormones. Endorphins, enkephalins, epinephrine, dopamine.” She paused. “Some of those are more for decreasing pain so you might not have all four. The end result though is that floating, fuzzy feeling.” She smiled. “After decades of just following orders coming back to normal life with hundreds of decisions being made daily it's overwhelming. When Steve gives you orders it is like having that freedom removed, returning back to how you were as the Winter Soldier.”

“Isn't that bad though?”

“Not necessarily. Steve isn't going to order you to go level a town. Letting someone else be in control, it's freeing.” His mind drifted back to the videos Tony had made him watch. Tony's insistence it wasn't a big deal. His mind drifted back to Natalia's words. 

“Tony and I talked about it some. He showed me videos, said wanting to take orders was normal for some people. You mentioned pain to though?” Memory of wanting Steve to fuck him without stretching him first flickered into his mind but he pushed it away.

“Some people, most really, need pain to reach that same fuzzy feeling.” She leaned back against the railing of the stairs. “Everything we have been talking about is under the blanket term BDSM. Often it involves a Dominate, in this case Steve, and a submissive, you. It means different things for different people. For some people it's a lifestyle, something they live every single day. Other people it's something fun to toss around in the bedroom. Some people really need the pain aspect of it. Some people don't. It's up to you and Steve to decide what you both need and how you can work together to achieve that.”

He let out a long breath and let Natalia's words chase through his mind. “So wanting orders, wanting pain, do you think it's because if what Hydra did to me?” He whispered.

“Do you want me to answer honestly?” He nodded, eyes squeezed shut.

“Probably. At least in part. If you look hard enough every experience in your life links together and affects other parts in strange ways. If Hydra had never gotten ahold of you, you might be just as into it or maybe into a different part. That doesn't mean I think you should stop. If you enjoy it, and Steve enjoys it then who cares about the why? Is it something you enjoy?”

“Yes.”

“And Steve seems to?”

He nodded.

“Then I say continue to explore. Look stuff up online, find things you like, things you want to try. And talk to Steve. The single most important part of any relationship but  _ especially _ a BDSM relationship is communication.”

He tried to smile but was pretty sure he only half managed it. “That's the hard part.”

Natalia smiled back. “Always is. I'm going to send Steve back out here.” She said, standing. He nodded.

His eyes tracked the horizon as the door creaked behind him. The sun had fully set now, just the softest glow remained in the horizon where it had been. He heard the door creak again followed by the soft thumps of Steve's boots. “Hey Bucky. Everything okay?”

He started to nod but stopped himself. “Kind of?” 

Steve sat next to him. “Wanna talk about it?”

No. He nodded anyway, scooting closer to tuck into Steve's side. Once he opened his mouth it felt like the floodgates were opened “I was worried you'd been brainwashed before cause you mentioned that fuzzy feeling earlier and I have that feeling too and I thought it was left over from Hydra but Natalia said it's something called subspace which is normal and she said that my liking to take orders and pain sometimes it's normal too and that people who have never been through anything like that I have like it too sometimes and that there are all these different kinds under something called BDMS and that if it's something we both enjoy then it's ok but that we needed to talk to each other about it because it's really important in that kind of relationships and we haven't really talked about it that much and so we should probably…” 

“Breathe Buck. Just breathe.” 

He pulled in a massive gulp of air. He hadn't realized he hadn't even been pausing for air until the dizziness faded away.

“That's a lot to take in all at once.” Steve squeezed his shoulders. “So, to start I'm fully aware of the whole BDSM thing. I stumbled upon it before we found you and then when it became clear that giving orders really helped you I started reading up on it. I know I've told you before but yes it's normal for some people. Even when we were kids you liked getting ordered around sometimes. You said you wanted pain sometimes too?”

Had he? He licked his lips. “Maybe? I wanted it the other day. When I asked you not to use your fingers?”

Steve nodded. “If that is something you want we can talk about that, look into it some.”

“Would you like it though? She said we both needed to like it.” He burrowed tighter into Steve's side. Now that the sun was down he was starting to feel cold.

Steve's arms tightened around him. Steve's voice was a warm rumble as he spoke. “I've never tried it personally so we would have to explore together.” Steve's fingers brushed through his hair. “You don't feel like it's going backwards anymore? I know that was originally a concern you had.”

“Not really. Not anymore. If anything I think it's helping.” He tilted his chin up to steal a quick kiss. 

“Ready to go back inside?” He nodded. 

As soon as he'd stepped into the entry the drone toy Tony had given Cooper smacked into his shoulder. Cooper's eyes went wide. Before Cooper could apologize he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Please don't shoot!” He called. “We are unarmed.” Cooper and Lila both collapsed in peels of laughter. Lila's drone joined Cooper's in bumping into to them as he and Steve both pretended to be under attack. Eventually Clint had to call the two off so they could safely make it to the kitchen for leftovers.

Natalia flashed him a smile as he dropped into the loveseat. “Are you sure you have to go home tonight?” Laura asked once they had settled in. 

“I have to go to meetings for my charities all day tomorrow. Trust me I'd rather stay here.” Steve said with a smile. 

“Well you both know the guest room is always open just let us know.” Clint said from the kitchen.

“Are you all coming to the tower for Christmas?” Steve asked. 

Both Cooper and Lila spun hopefully to look between Clint and Laura. “That's fine with me.” Laura looked over at Clint.

Clint nodded “I'll check with Tony but we should be able to.”

“Will Santa know where to bring the presents?” Lila asked Natalia.

“Of course he will.” She said with a smile. “He  _ is _ always watching.” Lila looked relieved and leaned against Natalie's side.

While he had enjoyed seeing everyone he was glad when they lifted off in the Quinjet. “You doing okay?” Steve asked once they were in the air. 

“Yeah I think so. I hope Josef really is gone. Natalia said she was going to keep trying to track him.”

“Hey why do you call her that? Instead of Nat or Natasha?” Steve asked.

He frowned. “It's her name? Why?”

Steve shrugged. “She always introduced herself as Natasha.”

He paused. “Natalia was her name growing up. She might have changed it to get away from that.”

Steve nodded. “That makes sense. Were you two close back then?”

“Not really any way to be close there. She was the best they had though, in the group I assisted with.”

Steve looked over at him. “What did they have you doing?”

“Combat training mainly. Hand to hand stuff.”

“Yeah?” He nodded. “So think you could take her now?”

“What?” He asked.

“In a fight? Think you could win hand to hand?”

“Fuck no.” He didn't have to even hesitate. “She was better than me by a long shot back then and I'm not nearly as in practice anymore. She'd kick my ass.”

Steve laughed and he couldn't stop himself joining in. “So what did you two talk about after I went inside besides BDSM?” Steve tried to sound casual but didn't quite manage it.

“Oh she showed me some sex toys that you can fuck that feel like a dame.” The words had the desired effect as Steve went bright red and the Quinjet jumped sideways a bit. “Figured we should get one sometime. See if maybe you would like sex with a girl given the chance.”

It took Steve more than a minute to recover. “Is that something you'd like?”

“Yeah. I'm not planning on getting a girl any time soon if ever. It would be fun to have.”

Steve nodded, his face and ears still bright red.

The return pilot met them on the landing pad to take the Quinjet back to the hanger. He'd been planning to curl up and watch something on the TV but now that they were home he was ready to lay down. He shouldn't be tired. He'd had a nap. 

Still when Steve asked “Bed?” he found himself nodding and following Steve into the bedroom. It took minutes for Steve to fall asleep. He lay awake for awhile just listening to the soft sounds of Steve's breathing before finally drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

December 16

“Sorry to wake you gentlemen.” Jarvis's quiet voice jolted him awake. Next to him Steve sat straight up in bed. “Mr. Barnes, Mr. Stark requires your assistance.”

“Now? What time is it?” He asked, rubbing his face.

“It is currently 4:31 a.m.” Jarvis answered.

Steve dropped back into the bed with a groan. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear away the blurriness of sleep. “I'm gonna go see what he needs.” He told Steve. Steve mumbled something that was probably a reply but he caught none of it.

He stood and crossed to the bathroom to piss before whatever Tony had planned. “Is this something that is going to take awhile J? Like should I get dressed?”

It was a moment before Jarvis answered. “I believe it will likely take some time sir.” He couldn't place Jarvis's tone. Sadness? Worry? Resignation? Whatever it was it made him rush to dress and make it to the elevator.

When the elevator started moving he stumbled in surprise. It was rising rather than dropping down towards the lab as it normally did. When the doors opened it was into Tony's apartment. The lights were off but the faintest whisper of dawn lightened the room enough to see Tony sitting on the couch. The whole room stunk like alcohol. “Tony?” He said quietly.

Tony jumped then turned to glance over his shoulder. “Damn it J! I said lock down the floor!”

“You gave Mr. Barnes access when-” Jarvis started but Tony cut across him.

“I'm writing a new fucking security protocol for you.”

“Tony what’s going on?” He asked hesitantly. Tony didn't seem dramatically more drunk than any other time in the past. Why would Jarvis call him today?

“I'm fine Buck. Just got a little drunk and Jarvis turned into a damn mother hen. Go back to sleep.”

Tony's voice wasn't quite right either. He crossed to the couch. At least half a dozen bottles of various alcohol littered the table. Sitting in the middle was a small picture frame. His heart dropped. He knew the face in the picture. The last time he'd seen it the woman had been calling for Howard right up to the moment he strangled her. Tony turned and poured another shot.

Why would Tony have a picture of his mother out? As far as he had ever seen Tony kept no pictures of his family around. Realization washed over him like ice. December 16th. The anniversary of their deaths. He crossed around the couch, pulled Tony to his feet and folded his arms around the other man. Tony returned the hug.

“Where's Pepper?” he asked.

“She's in D.C. for a few days.”

“She just left? Knowing this was coming?”

“Mr. Stark intentionally scheduled her to be gone just like he does-”

“Jarvis mute!” Tony snapped. Pulling back from the hug he dropped down to the couch.

“Tony, I am so sorry. And I can't remember if I said it before but if not I'm sorry it took this long to apologize. I-”

“Bucky! It's fine.” Tony's voice was tight. Tony poured two shots and offered him one. He took it and swallowed it even though he knew it wasn't worth it in his case. “I know. I know it wasn't you. Not really anyway.” Tony stared out the window a moment. “I did blame you. For a long time. When Steve first said he wanted to bring you back here I told him no. I told him there wasn't any way to brainwash someone so much they wouldn't have some control. Then we started watching the videos how Hydra.” Tony made a vague gesture with his hand. I couldn't, not after I saw that, saw that they did. No one could go through that and come out the other side.”

He wasn't exactly sure how to reply. Tony took the burden of an immediate response away by passing him another shot glass. Uncertainly he scooted over to Tony and draped an arm over the back of the couch. Tony immediately tucked under his arm. “I wish I could say I saw who it was and tried to stop. I'm not even sure if distantly I recognized him. He recognized me though, I saw it in his eyes. I can still see his face...I wish I could have stopped. Howard was a good person, a good friend. I won't ever be able to forget.”

Tony scoffed. “You and I knew a very different Howard.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

Tony took a swallow directly from the bottle before speaking. “He was cold and calculating. I am not sure if he was ever less than three feet from a bottle of alcohol. The only time he would allow me to be around is if I was building something and even then if I messed up, if I touched something of his he would yell and he would scream and make Jarvis come get me. I learned to never make mistakes, miscalculations, just so I could hope to spend even a few more minutes with him. But then when my mistakes dried up he started yelling at me for his too. I learned to stay away when he was building something hard because otherwise he would spend hours yelling at me. Then he started actively seeking me out when his projects failed. He would yell for making too much noise so I started spending time in the garage. Then he blamed me when he scratched his car when he was drunk and I was barred from the garage. I spent time outside and he would come find me to yell for worrying Mom because she couldn't find me. There was no where I could go, nothing I could do that was right. He never told me he loved me. Fuck he never even implied he liked me. I was simply the easiest option for him to release his frustration on.”

“Fuck, Tony.” He whispered. He knew Howard and Tony had a strained relationship but this was something else entirely. How could Howard have been like that? “Did… Was he like that to your Mom?”

Tony took another drink. “No.” Tony's eyes looked over to the picture. “No he actually cared about her. When he wasn't shouting, he acted like I didn't exist. If he was focused we could spend hours in the same room and he wouldn't acknowledge I existed. I would do everything in my power to make those moments last as long as possible. Once or twice he even have advice or would hold something when I couldn't and I would think I'd finally made the bastard like me and then I'd screw up or he would and it was gone.” Another long drink, “The first few times it I did something I was proud of and I tried to show him he waved it off as trivial. I kept getting more and more advanced trying more and more things hoping that someday he would be proud of what I'd done.” Tony downed the rest of the bottle and reached for another but paused. “You know he actually called me his greatest creation once? Like he'd made me in the lab and tinkered and fine tuned me until I was something worthwhile. And that's how he saw me. Just another thing he had made. I wasn't a person with feelings or thoughts. I was just a robot he could parade out and show. I'm pretty sure his happiest day was shipping me out to boarding school against Mom's wishes.”

“I can't believe Howard turned out like that. He was never. I mean he could get mad sure but everyone could it was a war tension was high. But in between fire fights he was never…” He pulled the bottle from Tony's fingers. Tony started to protest but he took a drink himself before passing it back. 

Tony curled closer into his side, pulling his legs up into the couch. He looked out of the windows. The sun was coming up now. How long had they been talking? “What was he like back then?” Tony asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“During the war?” Tony nodded against his ribs. “Like I said sure he got mad sometimes but nothing like that. He worked in a group at the SSR but they did all the easy stuff. Howard was always far smarter. He could charm the pants off a snake, had more dames in the time I knew him then most men could hope for in a lifetime. Good sense of humor.” How much was he supposed to tell Tony? How much wouldn't make him hurt worse? “He and I were close cause we were both trying to get some tail but I think he was closer personally to Steve. He and I really didn't  _ talk _ much.”

Tony grumbled into his ribs. “I  _ hated _ Steve growing up. Steve Rogers was the glowing saint whose standards none of us could ever hope to achieve. He spent decades looking for Steve. He was constantly coming up with new ideas on how he might find him, just sure that the serum would have kept him alive. I remember, before I acted up too much and didn't have to go to them anymore, Howard would spend entire dinner parties and benefits talking about Steve. If someone tried to steer the conversation towards me or how I was Howard would just wave it off. Tony is fine, but I remember once when Steve… just on and on. It was like I didn't exist.” Tony closed his eyes and pushed a hand through his hair. “Obie said trying to find Steve had changed him but I never knew to what extent.”

“Obie?” 

“Obadiah Stane. He was my father's b…”

If Tony kept speaking he didn't hear it. He was back in Hydra sitting in a debrief room. His handler sat next to him. The door opened and a man entered. “Obadiah how are you?” The handler spoke. 

“Fine.” The man was smiling but it didn't reach his eyes. Instead the man was studying him. He was uncomfortable, uncertain that the asset should be in the room.

“Ignore him.” His handler spoke. “You said you knew when Howard Stark was moving the serum?”

“I. Yes. I set the plane trip personally. December 16th Howard will leave his home around”

“Bucky!” He jumped. Tony was sitting up looking at him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Tony, did you say Obadiah was your father's partner?”

“What?”

“Obadiah Stane?”

“Yeah, they were business partners. Why? What's wrong?”

“Tony. That is the man who ordered the hit on your parents. I was there in the room when he gave my handler the information. He had booked the plane, knew exactly when and where Howard's car would be transporting the serum. All of it.”

Tony went still, brown eyes searching his. “Obie did?” Tony said weakly. He nodded. Tony was on his feet pacing. He was at least not so drunk that he walk effectively. “And he wanted them dead? Both of them?” He nodded again. “Damn it!” Tony threw the bottle in his hand. It burst into a shower of glass and foam. 

From the wall a small slot opened and five tiny robots, no bigger than his fist began clearing away the glass and liquid. Steve had told him about the robots that kept the tower so clean but he'd also said they normally waited until a room was empty. Apparently shattered glass near Tony's bare feet took precedence. 

“I. If. I can't remember. I don't know what I've told you already.” Tony stopped pacing and tapped his chest. The arc reactor ticked quietly when his nail hit it “I was in Afghanistan. Weapons demonstration. All very routine. On the way back the Humvee was attacked. Attacked with Stark weapons,  _ my _ weapons.” Tony returned to pacing. “The soldiers I was with were all killed. I tried to run but a missile went off close range, went right through my vest. There were. There are fragments of that missile in my chest. This” Tony touched the reactor again, “yes it powers the suit but it keeps that metal away and powers my heart. It is keeping me alive. When I got back Obie knew I was working on something. Kept pressing me for it. Pepper found proof, footage he was the one who orchestrated the attack on me in Afghanistan. When that failed flhe made his own suit and took the reactor out of my chest. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have missed it? Obie stepped in, was like the Dad I had always wanted but he killed them. Tried to kill me.” Tony grabbed another empty bottle and threw it at the robots which scattered away before the bottle hit then resumed cleaning.

“Tony you wouldn't have ever had any way of knowing.” He said quietly. “Come sit down.” Tony looked ready to argue but didn't. He crossed over to the couch and laid down, Tony's head in his lap. He ran a hand through Tony's hair. It was always so soft. “I'm sorry Tony. I'm sorry that happened and I'm sorry for all the parts I played it in.”

Tony didn't answer, his eyes were closed. It seemed the last display of frustration had tired him out. Slowly Tony's breathing evened out. “Jarvis, unmute and tint the windows please.” He said quietly. Jarvis didn't answer but the room grew dark in spite of the early morning sun coming in straight through the glass. 

He waited a full hour to be sure Tony was asleep before slipped out from under him and clearing away the empty bottles. “Jarvis. Call me if he wakes up and is upset. If you can't tell me verbally think of something okay?” He asked once safely in the elevator.

“I will monitor and report as needed.” Jarvis said.

“Thanks J.”

December 18

It had been two days since Jarvis had summoned him to help Tony. Tony at least seemed back to normal. He wished he felt normal. He'd gone back to bed after Tony fell asleep but every time he had closed his eyes he'd seen Howard's staring at him. The fear and recognition fading away as the life drained from him. But worse the moments before the fear started, the glimmer of hope. Howard knew him as a friend, thought he'd come to help. 

Steve had been working on legal stuff with one of the charities meaning he'd been mostly left to his own entertainment the last two days. By the time Steve got home that evening he was pacing. Steve kept gently pushing for information but he couldn't put the horror of his thoughts to words. Steve ordered him to sit still but even that didn't stop the panicked thundering of his heart. Within minutes he was back up, pacing and flexing his hands.

“We are going for a run.” Steve announced, making him jump. “Come change.” Steve tone left no room for argument so he stood and followed the other man into their bedroom. “This would be easier if you could tell me what's wrong.” Steve said quietly.

His chest tighten. He knew Steve was only trying to help, he really did. “I  _ can't _ .” he whispered.

Steve turned. “Okay I can understand that. You can't because someone told you that you can't or because you don't feel like you can?” Steve's eyes bored into his chest.

“Uhh the second one.” 

Steve nodded, so watching him. “Okay. Get changed then.”

He grabbed sweat pants and a workout shirt but paused to enjoy watching Steve change. As much as he'd loved Steve when they were kids he couldn't complain about Steve now that the serum had changed him. Steve caught him watching and winked. He forced himself to pull his focus back to changing.

“Ready?” Steve asked as soon as he'd finished pulling on his shoes. 

“Yeah.” He followed Steve down the elevator and out. It was cold, the sun had already started to set and he could see his breath in soft clouds as they ran. 

He distantly remembered enjoying the cold. Still as they began moving the heat from his movements kept away the thoughts of cryo. In cryo you didn't move. You were trapped. Even though the cold felt familiar the movement helped. 

He fell into step beside Steve as they moved through mostly empty streets. No one was out unless they had to be. He tried to focus on Steve, on watching the other man move next to him but Howard's eyes continued to leech into his every thought.

He'd known who he was. Why couldn't he have stopped? If he'd been strong enough he could have broken free and then he wouldn't be worried about Josef now. Hydra would have never gotten the serum. He almost missed a turn Steve took until Steve's hand grabbed his arm and pulled him.

Bile tried to climb his throat as he tried to focus on anything else, anything that wasn't the light fading from Howard's eyes. He barely noticed when they entered the park. Following Steve down familiar trails only made it easier for his mind to wander. 

Any deaths the other Winter Soldiers had done rested on his shoulders too. He was the reason they existed. If he'd just been able to fight it. “Buck!” Steve's shout pulled him back. Steve had stopped running and was almost out of site off the path behind him. He doubled back. “Bucky. Look i promised I'd never order you to talk and I'm not changing that but you have to tell me something. I can't help if you won't talk.”

He tried to stand still as Steve was but the cold tried to seep in so he paced. “I can't talk about it Steve.”

“That's bullshit and you know it.” Steve's arms crossed. “Come on Buck I know everything about you. We have shared  _ everything _ our whole lives. No matter what it is we can talk about it.”

“Damn it Steve I can't okay?” Frustration bubbled up before falling off. It wasn't Steve's fault. None of this was on Steve. He was the one who was fucking broken.

“No. No it's not okay Buck. I can't help if you don't talk. Whatever this is it's bothering you a lot. You haven't slept you've barely eaten. You need to talk to me.”

“No.” 

“Fuck!” Steve shoved into his space. “I've been trying to be patient but it's been days. You aren't getting better on your own. What can I do to help you get through whatever this is?”

His mind cast around and he spoke before he could think. “Let me suck you off. Out here.” 

Steve looked startled. “How the fuck it that going to help?”

“Get my mind off things?” 

Steve looked frustrated for a moment then took off at a jog. He jumped to follow. They continued in silence. Apparently his suggestion hadn't even been worth a rejection. In the quiet he could hear the steady beat of his heart. The sound served has a reminder he still lived when other people, better people lay dead. 

He'd fallen so deep in his thoughts he again missed Steve stopping. Steve called him back. He braced for another argument. “Steve I can't-”

“You said sucking me off was gonna help? Now is your chance.” 

He looked around. The street lights above them were burnt out throwing the surrounding area into darkness. Trees dappled the area giving them plenty of space for privacy. He took a tentative step off the path and Steve followed easily. He moved back a good 20 feet off the trail and behind a large tree trunk before stopping. In spite of having offered the blow job he felt strangely apprehensive. 

“On your knees.” The order immediately soothed the uncertainty. He dropped willingly down. Steve's fingers stroked through his hair and down his cheek. Steve's thumb came to rest on his mouth, gently pulling down on his lower lip. He licked the pad of Steve's thumb.

His hands moved up to tug at the waistband of Steve's pants, easing them when enough to pull Steve's half full cock free. He locked eyes with Steve before sucking just the tip of Steve's dick past his lips. He pulled in a long slow breath. Steve's familiar smell was sharp with sweat. 

He sucked and lapped enjoying the feeling of Steve filling in his mouth. Steve's pulse felt heavy on his tongue. Steve's breath caught and ended in a moan. “Jesus Buck.” He hummed and redoubled how pace. “Your mouth feels so good.”

His hands moved up to cup Steve's balls. He alternated between gently squeezing and rolling them in time with the pace of his mouth. Sucking Steve all the way in he swallowed around the head of Steve's cock. “Fuck. Bucky. So good. So good for me.”

Steve's fingers tangled in his hair. He relaxed allowing Steve to guide his movements. He hollowed his cheeks sucking hard. The wet sounds that slipped from his lips felt magnified in the quiet park. Steve's breathing became ragged. The whisper of his name on Steve's lips was the only warning he received before Steve came hard.

He struggled to swallow all of the bitter liquid down. Steve's hand softened in his hair. “Okay Buck?” Steve asked his tone apprehensive.

“Yeah. You gonna help a guy out?” He asked, readjusting his own painfully hard dick. 

“You gonna talk?” 

He stomach churned painfully. “Howard.” He mumbled before he could think.

“What?”

“Tony, the other day. He was mourning Howard and Maria. I haven't. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I find deserve….” He let his head drop forward, his eyes closed. 

“Oh Buck.” Steve's voice was small and quiet. Steve dropped down in front of him pulling his head forward to rest on Steve's chest. “How can I help babe?” 

He shook his head. “I don't know.” He tried to ignore how broken the three words sounded.

“Come on doll. Let's go home okay?” He nodded standing and following Steve. The run home seemed to take only a moment. Tried to focus on his breathing, the sights and smells of the ground they covered but he couldn't.

“Strip. Go lay on your stomach on the bed.” Glad Steve wasn't trying to make him talk he let himself settle into the brief ease of following instruction.

A few minutes later he felt the bed dip under Steve's weight. Steve straddled his hips. He heard the soft pop of a bottle. Lube? He considered telling Steve he wasn't up for sex but Steve's hands rested on his shoulder rubbing gently. He let out a long sigh as Steve began to massage.

He had no idea how long he lay still before Steve's hands and the weight of his own eyelids drew him down to sleep.

December 20

His eyes flickered open. He stretched out wide, alone in the large bed. He could remember Steve getting up sometime earlier, telling him to get extra rest. He stood and stretched again. He felt like he'd spent all of yesterday either asleep or eating. Even though the sun shine bright into the bedroom he still felt tired.

Dressed he walked into the living room heading straight for the coffee maker. “Morning.” He grunted at Steve as he passed.

Steve stood, catching his wrist and pulling him into a tight hug. “Morning Buck.” Steve purred, pressing a kiss into his lips. He smiled. Pulling away he resumed his shuffle to the coffee maker. “Grab me some too?” Steve asked, dropping back to the couch.

He poured two mugs of coffee. “So what is on the agenda today?” He asked.

“Probably going to work on letters.” 

“Letters?” He asked, passing Steve the coffee. 

“Yeah. We get them year round. Tony has a team that sends out generic replies but around Christmas I take over and personally reply to some of them. If you want I can have them send up a bag of yours too.”

He paused. “ _ I _ get letters?” He asked, unable to hide the disbelief in his tone.

“Yeah Buck, of course. Someday you gotta get used to the fact people think of you as a war hero.”

_ Only misinformed people _ he thought. “Yeah that would be fun.” Steve smiled.

Less than an hour later the elevator opened to show two bags. It was easy to tell which was Steve's, his was almost double the size but he was still shocked to see the sheer number of letters. Steve pulled his bag over to the couch and began pulling them out at random to read. 

He brought his bag to the table and dumped them all out. A few fell to the floor but he was able to corral most of them into a pile. “Really Buck?” Steve said without any heat. He picked up the few that fell then began to open them at random. 

Many were short, just wishes of a good Christmas and a Happy New Year. Others were long and heartfelt, talking about wars they had been in, times they'd been imprisoned both by enemies and for legal reasons. All of those letters spoke of him as some great inspiration to make it out the other side. He didn't feel like an inspiration but it was sweet others did. 

As he rummaged through the stack a letter addressed in purple ink caught his eye. As he reached for it his heart stopped. He knew that handwriting. Trembling hands fumbled to grab the letter. He ripped open the back and withdrew the single sheet of paper. 

_ Dearest James, _

_ I hope this letter finds you well. I worry about you, especially this time of year. I am beginning to suspect you haven't received my past letters. Serenity says maybe you don't wish to speak with me but I am holding hope to hear back soon.  _

_ I love you dearly. I hope to see you sometime soon. Serenity and the baby will be here through New Year's. We hope you are able to come visit. _

_ Even if you can't, please know I love you dearly and I am so proud of you. _

_ With love, _

_ Rebecca _

“Steve” his hand groped towards Steve's spot on the couch. His hand shook where it was stretched out between them. “Steve.” His voice was shaking as much as his hand. Steve vaulted over the couch.

“Bucky! What's wrong?!” Panic rose in Steve's voice.

“Steve. Rebecca.” He said, distantly aware tears were streaming down his face.

“Rebecca?” Steve took the letter from his trembling fingers. Steve's eyes scanned the page. “Rebecca Barnes?!” Steve's eyes met his. “That's…can't be possible. I looked for her, looked for both our families when I got back. I couldn't find anyone.

“I know that handwriting Steve. I  _ taught her _ that handwriting.” Rebecca had struggled to learn her letters. He remembered long hours spent at the dining room as she painstakingly copied lines he wrote until her handwriting matched his. Even now, though the letters were shaky with age the letters still looked like how he'd taught her.

Steve reached for the envelope. “This isn't far. About an hour and a half. Let's go.” His head snapped up, eyes meeting Steve's. He nodded. When he stood Steve folded him into a hug. “I'm so sorry Buck. I looked. I checked records and archives but I never found anything.”

“S'ok Stevie.” He said, leaning back enough to kiss Steve. 

“Jarvis, 7th floor.” Steve said once they were in the elevator.

He didn't question why they weren't going straight to the garage. He focused on leveling his breathing. By the time the elevator stopped he was able to breathe normally and the tears had stopped. The elevator opened into what was clearly some of the offices at Stark industries. It was bustling with men and women in business attire. A hush fell over the room as people noticed then. If his emotions hadn't been in check before the weight of a hundred sets of eyes forced a mask of calm indifference over his face. Steve moved easily through the rows of shoulder high walls that surrounded individual desks. His movement seemed enough to restore the din of noise as everyone resumed work. He glanced over the walls as they past. It was strange to see instead of the open offices he'd seen when he was young with everyone in nice neat rows with no dividers between.

Steve turned left down a hall and through the eighth door they passed. Dozens of workers moved on the other side of a large counter. Some sat at computers while others stood at tables sorting envelopes. Steve stopped in front of the counter. “Can we get all letters addressed to James Barnes from…” Steve flipped the letter over “Rebecca Barnes-Proctor?” The women looked away from Steve and turned her eyes to him.

“Mr. Barnes, you approve the collection of the letters?” She asked. Her voice was soft.

“Yeah. Yes, please. Ma'am” he stumbled over his own words, desperate to get anything they had. The woman stepped away from the counter, walking down a row of filing cabinets. She stopped about five in and knelt pulling open the bottom drawer. She thumbed through the row then closed the drawer and opened the top drawer of the next cabinet. He wanted to shout for her to hurry but he stopped himself, instead bouncing on the balls of his feet. She collected a stack of envelopes and returned offering them to him instead of Steve. He took them carefully in spite of the need to yank them away from her hands.

“Thank you.” Steve said and touching his elbow turned them back out of the room. He let himself be guided back to the elevator, down to the garage and into Steve's car before finally looking over the envelopes. 

The post date revealed she'd written him once a month since his arrival to Stark tower. With shaking hands he lifted the first letter. It had been cut open carefully with a letter opener. The original letter was still folded inside. He opened it.

_ James, _

_ I saw on the news this morning you were found alive. They said you were moved to Stark Tower for evaluation and recovery. I am so happy to know you are alive. When I saw Steve fighting for you on Capitol Hill, it's like your roles had been reversed.  _

_ I hope you have a speedy recovery. I hope you can visit soon. I have so much to tell you. _

_ I am so proud of you. You suffered more than any man should bare and survived.  _

_ I love you with all my heart. I hope you can visit soon. _

_ Your sister, _

_ Rebecca _

He folded the letter away and opened the next. Each letter was filled with love and encouragement. He hated that he only just now received them. It might have helped before, knowing she lived.

Steve was driving well over the speed limit but if any cops saw no one bothered then. In less than 30 minutes they pulled to a stop in front of a large apartment building. Steve nodded at the doorman whose eyes grew huge as he walked past. They took the elevator to the fourth floor and stepped out. The apartment was only two away from the elevator.

Steve lifted a hand and knocked. For several minutes it was silent inside and he wondered if they had the wrong number or if anyone was home. He turned to mention this to Steve when the click of a deadbolt brought his head back around. 

A woman in her mid 30s answered, a toddler tucked against her hip. They must have the wrong house. The woman stared at them both in silence a moment then called over her shoulder. “Mom! Mom!! It's Uncle James!” Tears filled her eyes. “Please, can I hug you?” She asked quietly. 

“I. Yeah.” He sat started. So this was his niece. He could see it now, she definitely had Rebecca's smile. She collapsed into his chest tears spelling over her face. The toddler looked as confused as he felt but he hugged her back regardless.

“James?” A quiet voice came from out of sight in the apartment. He carefully stepped back from the women to step into the apartment. A woman was shuffling towards him laboring heavily with a cane. Her long white hair fell in waves over her shoulder, her skin wrinkled with age but he could see Rebecca's eyes clear as day. He crossed the room in two large steps before picking her up and folding her into a hug. “I'm so happy you finally came.” She said into his ear, hugging him back. “And you brought Steve.” She said her eyes coming to rest past him on Steve. “I still can't believe that's really our Steve ‘

Steve laughed. “I tried to beat up the first guy you dated for lookin a ya funny. Bucky stepped to help and he gave up and admitted he was soft on you and Bucky beat him up anyway.”

She laughed and the sound echoed through his memories. “Come in, both of you.”

“Rebecca I'm so sorry.” Steve said quietly. “I tried to find you after I woke up but…”

Rebecca waved him off. She moved to an armchair and sat. He and Steve settled together into the loveseat. “It's not your fault Steve. After Mom went, Mary and I went to live with Uncle Mike.” He nodded. He remembered them leaving. He'd fought to keep them together but in the end at least they'd been together. “When we got there news James was killed in action, it hit Mary so hard. She died a year after. The doctors said it was grief but she was ill even before the news came. Knowing what we do about medicine now I believe it was cancer.” Rebecca began coughing and took a drink from a mug sitting next to her chair. Her voice was a bit tight when she resumed speaking. “Uncle Mike was worried whatever illness Mary had would spread to me and from me to his other two children so he found a family for me to live with. They were called the Smiths. Record keeping was so poor back then. I simply started singing my name Rebecca Smith and no one questioned it. Even my marriage license said Smith. That is probably why you couldn't find me. I don't think they ever legally took me in.”

“That makes sense. I found Mary's death certificate but never yours.” Steve said quietly. He could feel Steve's eyes on him. It was hard to think about Mary dying so young. Rebecca spoke again, filling the silence.

“Then I met Mr, Procter. He and I were married many wonderful years. You've already met my daughter, Serenity. And that's her son James.”

He smiled at them. “I didn't get names but we met.” James had wriggled out of Serenity's arms and now stood watching them apprehensively from between her knees. 

“He just turned two in October.” Serenity said with a smile, gently brushing James’ hair from his eyes. It was strange, having a namesake but he was too happy to care.

“I am just so happy you're both here.” Rebecca said, smiling at them. “I was beginning to think you didn't want to see us when I never heard back.”

“That's my fault.” Steve said. “In the tower all mail goes through a mail room for processing and sorting. When Bucky first came to the tower I told them to check and hold all his mail. I didn't think anyone was around so I didn't tell them to watch for relatives letters. Honestly when he first came to the tower he wasn't mentally ready to read any mail anyway and then I never thought to change it.” He nodded as Steve spoke. He wondered if the mail had gotten through how he'd have reacted to reading Rebecca's first letter. He'd been so far from himself then. Would he have even remembered her?

“That's okay Steve.” Rebecca said with a smile. “I sent you one two, around the time of the trails just to say thank you for everything. I couldn't watch most of it, hearing all the things they did but I wanted to thank you for helping the world see what a hero James is.”

He scoffed before even realizing he was doing it. Three sets of eyes rounded on him. He folded his arms over his chest. “I'm no hero.” He said flatly. His eyes tracked James as he darted from between Serenity's legs to grab a toy from the floor then darted back to hide against his mother.

“Bullshit.” Rebecca's firm voice drew his attention back to her face. “You survived. You made it through everything and you're still a good person. Even when everything around you was evil and horrible and you had nothing left you kept going. You stayed alive and you didn't let your light go out. Even before Hydra, before the war you were a hero and that hasn't changed. Don't let anyone, especially yourself, tell you different.” Her eyes, so familiar yet so different bore into him. He took a slow breath past the lump trying to form in his throat.

“Thank you Rebecca.” He said quietly. She smiled. 

“You always were your own worst critic.” 

“Still is.” Steve said without hesitation.

Serenity spoke softly. “Was it hard? Getting away from everything they did?”

“Serenity!” Rebecca scolded. “There is no reason to-”

“It's ok.” He said, stopping Rebecca. “It's been hard. I am miles ahead cause of Stevie's help. When I moved back into the tower I still really didn't remember much. I didn't know who I was or who anyone at the tower was except Natalia.”

“You mean the Black Widow?” Serenity's asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah. I helped train her when she was a kid. I didn't remember everything but I knew who she was. It took months to even calm down enough to let anyone help me. It's,” he pushed a hand through his hair, “it's been a long road.”

“We saw you on the TV giving that little girl her new arm. Is it true you helped with that?”

“No. That was all Peter and Tony. I didn't d-”

“Yes. He helped.” Steve said firmly. “It was his idea that sparked the whole charity.” 

James seemed to finally be comfortable with them in the room and was babbling quietly to himself as he made the toy he'd grabbed dance around Serenity's knee. “Tell me more about your life Becca?” He asked hopefully, more than ready to have the conversation off of him.

She smiled. “After high school I went to nursing school. I spent more than twenty years as a nurse at different hospitals and doctors offices. But I wanted something more. My husband pushed me to return to school, become a doctor. A woman doctor in those days was practically unheard of. It was difficult to find a school that would admit me. The courses were difficult but I managed to graduate top of my class. It took a long time for my classmates to accept I'd earned the grades and didn't use my feminine wiles to con professors into giving me better grades. After graduation finding a job was impossible. I ended up continuing nursing for another 5 years before anyone would hire me. When I finally found somewhere that would hire me I struggled to have any kind of equality.. All during that time we continued to try for a child. At one point I was told we would never be able to conceive but we kept trying. When I finally did get pregnant it was a rough pregnancy. I ended up having to go on bedrest very early on due to prenatal problems. But Serenity came healthy and on time. I stayed home with her after that until kindergarten. Then I returned to medicine. It was much easier to get hired on and I rose quickly through the hospital. By the time I retired I was Chief of Medicine at the hospital.”

He smiled. “What about you Serenity?” He asked, turning to look at the younger woman. 

She shrugged. “I graduated highschool and took a few years off then started school to be a veterinarian. I socialized in exotics and worked doing that until I got pregnant with James.” The child looked at her when she said his name and she kissed his forehead. The toddler yawned. She scooped him up and held him, rocking him softly. “His Dad booked it when he found out I was pregnant so I ended up back here with Mom or bunking with a friend.”

“If you want, if either of you want, I'm sure Tony would be fine with you moving into the tower. There are extra rooms and-” he stopped as Rebecca waved him off.

“I can't speak for Serenity but I've lived there best years of my life here and I'm not planning on leaving any time soon.”

Serenity nodded in agreement. “Thanks but I'm okay.”

He nodded. “You both need to come visit at least.”

Both women nodded. The conversation continued through the day and well into the evening. The sun had long set by the time he and Steve stepped out of the door after giving everyone hugs and promising to come visit soon. Rebecca, Serenity and James all waved from the window as they drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

December 31

Christmas came and went in a flurry of activity. Tony, after hearing that Clint and the family were coming for Christmas along with Rebecca, Alyssa and James, had invited Peter and his Aunt to come to the tower as well. Christmas morning could only be described as joyful chaos as Peter, Lila, Cooper and James tore into their gifts. After that the kids, Peter had resented being lumped into that category, had spent hours playing with all the new toys and electronics while they had sat around the fireplace eating, talking, and drinking eggnog. It was the best Christmas he could remember having. Coming into the bedroom that night to find Steve wearing nothing but a bow had definitely completed the evening.

He and Steve now sat tucked on the roof of Stark tower. In the distance the ball could clearly be seen across the rooftops. Steve had assured him that seeing it from here was better than trying to see it near Time Square and he wasn't going to argue. Steve leaned back against the wall and he sat tucked been Steve's knees under a pile of blankets. Jarvis had informed them it was a whopping 12 degrees out and it felt it. Even under the blankets with Steve's heat soaking through his multiple hoodies he felt cold. 

“Doing okay Buck?” Steve spoke into his ear.

“Cuddle me. It’s cold.”   
  
“Very romantic of you, demanding affection,” Steve teased.   
  
“I don’t give a shit about romance, I’m cold. If you’re gonna make fun of me, go make me cocoa while you’re at it.” 

Steve laughed, Steve's breath warming his ear as he was pulled tighter to Steve's chest. Steve's arms slipped beneath his hoodies and up his chest, rubbing gently. How could Steve be so warm when it was so cold out? Besides their pile of blankets Steve wore only a t-shirt and light pants. It wasn't fair. “Not much longer.” Steve said softly. Steve's teeth caught his ear lobe at the same time Steve's nails caught his nipple. The surprise pulled a groan from his lips before he even realized it was coming.

Steve's warm chuckle sent a totally different kind of warmth spreading through him. A muffled beeping under the blankets announced that the ball was going to drop soon. He stood, Steve carefully pulling the blankets around him as they moved to the edge of the roof. The wind whistled around them drowning out most of the noise below. Steve's arms snaked around his waist holding him close as the ball began to descend. Each second fireworks launched from either side of the ball. As the ball finally stopped and fireworks shot up into the sky Steve turned him and pulled him in for a kiss. He'd expected a quick sweet kiss but Steve apparently had other plans. Steve's tongue was at his lips almost immediately. He smiled, returning the kiss.

Steve carefully stepped forward, giving him time to step back before repeating the step until his back bumped against the wall they'd been leaning against. Steve's hips ground into him. Even through his pile of blankets he could feel Steve's cock pressing into him. He pulled back from the kiss. “Should we… Inside?” He struggled to get the words out. 

Steve's lips dropped to his neck, sucking and biting a line from his ear first down to the junction if his neck and shoulder before biting hard and sucking up a mark. “No.” Steve said into his neck. 

“Stevie its  _ cold. _ ” He whined. 

“Gonna warm you up.” Steve purred a wolfish grin on his face. Before he could protest again Steve's leg swept his out from beneath him. Before he could fall Steve's arms caught him easily, guiding him down to their blanket. He yelped as his back landed in the now chilled blanket. Steve's tongue shot back into his mouth. 

Steve was rearranging his blankets, untucking them from around him and wrapping them around both their bodies. “Stevie.” He whined but Steve just grinned.

Blankets resettled Steve's hands slipped down him, pulling his pants down to his knees. He considered complaining again but Steve's hand wrapped around his dick promptly cutting off any complains he had. A familiar pop of the lube cap informed him the fucker had this fucking planned. 

He couldn't help but smile when Steve's lubed finger tried to slide into him only to discover something blocking the way. “Bucky. What…” Steve frowned and tapped again before ducking under the blankets. He let his head fall back to the ground with a smile. When Natalia had pulled him aside to give him some 'adult Christmas gifts’ he'd been more than a little unsure. Easing the plug in earlier alone in the bathroom had been strange too as well as sitting and pretending nothing was amiss but the groan that slipped from Steve's lips as he discovered the surprise made it completely worth it. The plug was thin and black with an image of Steve's shield on the base.

Steve surged up from the blankets bringing their lips crashing together. “So fucking hot you know that?” Steve said when they finally broke apart. Steve gripped the base of the plug and slowly pumped it out then back in. Feeling it move somehow felt even more strange after it had been still in him so long. Thankfully Steve was well past taking his time. It was less than a minute before Steve pulled the plug out and lined up. 

The plug was definitely good sized but it was nothing compared to Steve. He groaned at the burn as Steve thrust into him. Steve didn't wait for him to adjust before beginning to pound into him hard and fast. His hand snaked between them to begin pumping in time with Steve's movements. “So fucking hot.” Steve purred again. Bringing their foreheads together and trapping his cock between them. “Better finish quick already so close.”

“Yeah, me too Stevie.” He said as his eyes fell closed. 

He managed to beat Steve over the edge by less than a second, his whole body shaking as he came. Steve finished moments after. They lay together panting until even under the blankets and Steve's body the cum began to cool on his chest and the cold began to creep back into his veins. 

Steve pulled out and before he could move the plug was back in. He was sure the noise of surprise that jumped past his lips was far from sexy but if Steve minded he didn't comment. “Shower.” He asked hopefully. 

“Of course Buck.” Steve said pulling him to his feet. “Let's go get warm.”

January 16

He was sitting up before his eyes even fully opened. Blinking he took in his surroundings. He was in the living room curled up on the couch with Pup tucked against his legs looking concerned. He blinked slowly as the light pouring in from the open blinds chased away the last of the nightmare. He'd stretched out on the couch to watch a show. He glanced at the TV. Whatever he'd been watching had finished and something weird was playing on the screen now.

Steve was out of town for a few days. Steve had refused to give him any information other than it wasn't a mission and it should be no issue. That sounded like a mission if he'd ever heard of one but Steve had refused to give any further details.

He straightened up and stood, needing a distraction from the quiet. Pup huffed at his movement before somehow managing to stretch her small frame to take up all the remaining couch space. He signed. “I'm going to go see Tony.” He told her. She didn't look up from where her head now rested on her paws.

With a sigh he wandered over to the elevator and stepped in. He braced a hand on the wall as instead of going down it began to climb. “J? Is Tony okay?” He asked hesitantly.

“Relatively speaking sir.” Jarvis replied calmly.

Stepping off the elevator his nose was hit with a wave of alcohol. Tony sat on the back of the couch starting at the window in silence.

“Tony?” Tony jumped at the sound of his name then turned and to look.

Tony blinked a few times before recognition lit over his face. “Hey Buck.” Tony slurred. “Wanna shot?” Tony held up the bottle of whatever he was drinking.

“Hey Tony.” He said softly crossing the room. He was relieved to see there were no pictures of Tony's family waiting to smile at him from the coffee table. “What's going on?”

Tony frowned. “‘s nothing.” Tony turned and dropped back to the couch whose springs protested the sudden drop. 

He crossed the rest of the way to the couch and sat next to Tony who immediately folded into his side. He dropped his arm around Tony's shoulder and gently pulled the bottle from his fingers. It was more than half empty. He closed his eyes and pressing the cool glass to his lips, drank the remaining contents. He knew for a fact it wouldn't affect him but at least this way Tony couldn't drink it and do even worse harm to his liver.

“Talk to me Tony.” He said softly. 

Tony burrowed tighter into his side and began to unleash a stream of consciousness at him. “So I've been doing some modifications to the fighting arm, you know just in case? I've found where it was getting suck and cleared it out but motors three and seven are still wanting to stick. I even replaced three just to see if it was the motor but I think it must be the housing but I've checked and rechecked. Ended up doing some work on the reactor instead since your arm is being such a raging dick.” Tony shoved at his ribs. “Gonna fix the rotations and up the core. Not that it matters, Pepper won't replace it. Need to make something that can fit in and plug it in since she won't help. She's the only one I trust and she won't even talk to me.” Tony's voice quieted suddenly managing to sound almost child like. “I don't know what to do. I try so hard to do everything right and then suddenly it's three days later and I've forgotten to do anything I was supposed to and she's mad and flying off to who the fuck knows where.” Tony reached around for another bottle but any that were within reach were empty so he slumped back on the couch. “Relationships are hard. And I've tried! I have tried to change like she asks and do the things she wants and be  _ better. _ But no matter how hard I try it doesn't work and she's still mad. It was so much easier when it was just a stupid crush on my assistant. Di’ I ever tell you you were my first crush?” He stilled then turned to try to catch a glimpse of Tony's face but if Tony knew what he'd said he didn't seem to notice. “I just wish I could make her happy, let her know how much she means to me.” Tony's words grew quieter. “I just love her so much and she puts up with so much of my shit and I…”

Tony's weight lulled against him as the other man fell asleep. He shifted enough so that they could both be comfortable. Had Tony really meant that about the crush? Probably not. Drunk people were rarely very accurate. 

“Gotta get to the lab!” Tony's limbs flailed as the man suddenly struggled to stand.

“Not right now Tony.” Tony blinked up at him again. 

“Buck?” 

“Yeah Tony. Come on let's get you to bed.” Tony blinked at him as he stood.

“No. No bed. Pepper.” Tony's eyes cast around the room as if Pepper might magically appear.

“Pepper's not here right now Tony. Come on let's get you in bed.” He half pulled Tony off the couch. Tony allowed himself to be guided down the hall and into the bedroom.

“Please don't go.” Tony whispered as he turned to leave. 

Looking back at Tony the sheer vulnerability on his face was startling. Tony had apparently drunk enough to wash away the mask of confidence he normally wore.

With a sigh he turned back into the room. Tony watched him unsteadily as he closed the door. With effort Tony managed to pull his shirt off unassisted but it was immediately clear his pants were going to be a different story. “Sit down.” He told Tony. Tony shuffled to the bed and managed to sit without falling. He knelt and pulled Tony's jeans and socks off. Tony pulled back the sheets and was able to slide under them with minimal issues.

Tony patted the spot next to him in bed. After the admission of Tony's at least past crush on him he wasn't sure it was the best idea but if he was going to stay and make sure Tony didn't choke or anything he wasn't the most keen on just standing there for hours.

Finally he decided on laying in bed by fully clothed. As it was as soon as he laid down next to the other man Tony curled up against his side and fell back asleep, one arm draped around his middle. “J, keep me posted if Steve comes home.” 

“Certainly sir.”

He didn't remember falling back asleep but a soft wheezing breath jolted him awake. Steve was having an asthma attack. He needed to go start coffee and get him an asthma cigarette. Had he bought more at the store? He… Blinking he took in his soundings. Stark Tower. Tony's bedroom. Then the sound… he turned to look at Tony.

Tony's face was pale, eyes staring unblinking at the ceiling at he clawed at the reactor and tried again to draw breath. “Tony. Tony. Hey it's ok. Just a nightmare. Breathe.” He scrambled across the bed and caught Tony's fingers in him. Wide, panic filled eyes snapped to his face. “It's okay Tony. Just breathe. In. Come on. Here feel.” He pressed one of Tony's clammy hands against his chest. “In.” “And out.” 

It took a solid ten minutes to get Tony's breathing back on track. Tony's hand shook as he drew it back to his chest. 

“Are you okay for me to go get a washcloth?” He asked softly. 

Tony's eyes, still unfocused caught his and Tony nodded. He stood and crossed to the bathroom, grabbing a cloth and wetting it down. “Gonna clean the blood off your chest. But not gonna touch the reactor, okay Tony?”

Tony nodded. He leaned over and began to wipe away the blood. Tony had really done a number on his chest. Deep blunt scratches dappled the skin around the reactor. He was careful not to actually touch the device. The last thing they needed panic part two. 

“There is some blood on the reactor itself. Looks like you were pulling at it with bloody fingers.” Tony looked groggily at his chest before taking the towel and swiping roughly at the blood.

“'s why I use a sequence stead of just a twist. Woke up once withit half out of my chest.” Tony mumbled pressing the towel back into his hands. Tony's deep brown eyes were dropping now, barely open. 

“Get some more sleep Tony. I'll be here.” Tony mumbled something before drifting off. 

He stretched back out and fell asleep. He awoke again to movement, sitting up he saw Tony stumbling into the bathroom to collapse into the toilet, vomiting. He stood and followed Tony in sitting next to him on the floor and rubbing at his back. “How much did I fucking drink?” Tony moaned at one point. 

After awhile the vomiting subsided. He helped Tony wash out his mouth before returning to bed. “Bucky? Thank you.” Tony said softly as he settled back into the bed once more.

“Sure Tony. Just get some sleep okay?”

Tony mumbled incoherently before scooting over to curl back into his side.. He lay awake for awhile after that watching the soft glow of the reactor in the darkened room. Tony most have some really good curtains considering he was fairly confident it wasn't yet dark outside but the room was black as midnight. He realized it wasn't totally silent either. The softest sound of a piano drifted through the room. It took him several moments of attempting to determine it's source before he decided it must be Jarvis. As Tony slept the music became louder until it was clearly audible through the room. He wondered why Jarvis waited until Tony slept to start the music. It was so peaceful, surely Tony would fall asleep easier with it playing before he was completely passed out. 

When he woke again Tony was sitting up in bed looking disheveled but at least more aware. He felt sluggish and heavy at he struggled to sit up. Too much sleep for someone not trying to burn off tons of alcohol, he decided.

“Hey Buck.” Tony's voice was quiet. The room he noticed was silent again. 

“Hey Tony. Feeling better?” Tony shrugged. He sat up and Tony dropped back into his side.

“So you and Pep have a fight?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yeah. I. She wanted me to do something for the company. I forgot. It's on me. She got upset, took her flight to DC a day early. I'll… I'll figure it out. Find some way to make up. I always do.” Tony was silent for a moment. “I just. I don't  _ try _ to forget. I really don't then all the sudden it's days later and I'm not sure what happened. I tell Jarvis to remind me but then forget to do it when he does.”

“I know Tony. Pepper knows too I'm sure.” 

Tony nodded. “Thank you. For staying with me. I don't remember everything but you've been here since yesterday haven't you?”

“Is it? J what day is it?”

“January 17th.” Jarvis replied softly.

“Huh. Yeah of course Tony.” He said quietly. “Your chest okay? You scratched yourself up pretty good.” 

Tony nodded against his shoulder. “Sometimes the light when I'm half asleep looks like being in the wormhole.” Tony's voice was so quiet even in the silence he had to listen intently. 

He didn't know how to even begin to respond so he just rubbed Tony's back softly. After awhile he spoke. “How about I go cook something and we can have breakfast.”

“That sounds amazing.” 

“You sure your stomach’s okay?”

“Yeah I haven't eaten in... awhile.” Tony apparently gave up trying to produce a number. 

“You go shower. You stink.” Tony glared at him but there was no heat in it. 

It took a bit of work figuring out where everything was in Tony's massive, though apparently rarely if ever used, kitchen. By the time Tony wandered out washed and dried he had managed to make a smoothie for Tony at Jarvis instruction. He had also made eggs, bacon and sausage. He passed the smoothie over to Tony. “Jarvis said you'd want this?”

“Mmh I love you.” Tony mumbled taking a long drink of the mixture. He'd never seen that much random stuff mixed into anything but Jarvis had insisted it would help with the massive hangover Tony was undoubtedly sporting.

“Yeah you mentioned that last night too.” He said with a smirk. 

Tony's eyes darted around the table as if the memory he was referring to might be hiding behind the bacon waiting to jump out. Then Tony's eyes went wide and he groaned. “I didn't mean it I was drunk?” Tony tried hopefully.

“Uh huh. Spill or I'm going to start washing up as loud as possible.”

Tony grabbed a piece of bacon and ate it with his fingers before firmly addressing his shake. “Howard had files on all the Howling Commandos. He'd get drunk and take them out and look them over so I saw them at least once a week my whole life. And one day I saw your picture and I… Yeah.”

“And I was your first crush.” He couldn't help grinning.

“First crush on a  _ guy, _ okay? Not like first ever!”

“Ahh so sorry, my mistake.” He said with a grin.

Tony resolutely continued to glare at his shake like it had personally insulted him. “Yeah Barnes get it right. Maybe I need to tell Pepper to look out. I told you that then you spent the whole night in my bed.”

He snorted, watching Tony closely. “Tony.” Tony didn't move. “Tony look at me.” It took well over a minute before Tony's eyes tracked up to him. “I'm not mad. You know that right?” _ Something _ flickered behind Tony's eyes but the man didn't reply right away. 

“We are good right?” He finally asked.

Realization flooded over him and he stood and crossed around the table before giving Tony a hug. Tony returned it easily. “Yeah Tony. Of course we are good.”

He felt more than heard the deep breath Tony let out. “Gotta know though. You still checking me out Tony?”

“Fuck you.” Tony shoved him.

“Come on Tony. I'm not gonna let it drop.” He said grinning. Tony turned back to his shake. “Your silence tells me everything.” Tony cast a glare at him.” He leaned back in his chair. “You are going to finish that horrible concoction someday and have to answer me.”

“Not terrible. Helps.” Tony said before returning to his drink.

“For what it's worth Tony you aren't exactly terrible to look at yourself.” He said with a wink. 

Tony coughed and spluttered as he accidentally inhaled some of the shake. “If you could please not kill me this morning that would be great.” Tony said once the coughing finally subsided.

“Oh I'm sorry. Is this afternoon better for you?” Tony laughed sarcastically but didn't answer.

He stood and crossed around the table. Calmly he pulled the shake from Tony's hand and set it on the table before pressing into Tony's space. Tony looked up at him in surprise. “Well Tony?” He purred. “You still like what you see?” He couldn't help the smile spreading over his face. Tony was amazingly expressive when he wasn't trying to guard his emotions.

“I.” Tony stopped and cleared his throat. “Yeah.” He let out a wolf whistle before stepping back to give Tony space. “That's cruel and unusual. Jarvis arrest this man he's violating the Constitution.”

He laughed as he returned to drop in his seat. Tony finished the rest of the shake before spooning some eggs and sausage into his plate. “So what did you change in the reactor?” He asked. Tony raised an eyebrow. “You mentioned working on it last night.”

“I was getting delayed response times during flight with the newest suit. I think the reactor needs a bump to keep up.” He recognized that voice. Tony was dumbing it down for him. Still it was nice to actually know that he was talking about. He opened his mouth to reply by Tony's phone went off. Checking it Tony stood, “It's Pep. This may be a bit. Hey honey.”

He stood. “Should I go?” He whispered. If Tony heard he didn't answer.

“I.” “Yes.” “I know babe I'm so sorr.” “Yeah.” “Right, yeah.” Tony began to pace through the room, pausing randomly then moving again. “Yeah 32C should fix.” “When does it.” “Yeah.” Tony's hand pushed through his still wet hair. “Yeah. Yeah of course I'll go check now.” “I love you too, Pep and I'm sorry. Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow? Okay bye.” Tony looked visibly relaxed as he disconnected the line.

“Everything back to normal in paradise?” He asked with a smile.

“Yeah she asked me to look over an issue in one of the-” Tony stopped speaking and moving towards the elevator as his hand caught Tony's shoulder.

“You aren't leaving till you eat.”

“What? I did eat.”

“A horrible shake and two bites of eggs isn't eating Tony. Sit down.” Tony squared his shoulders and for a split second he thought he'd have to force Tony to sit but then Tony turned and dropped back to his spot at the table.

Tony finished his food fast enough he was shocked the other man didn't choke before heading for the elevator before pausing to double back. Tony pulled him to his feet and hugged him. “Thanks. You didn't have to do…any of that but I appreciate it.”

He wrapped his arms around the smaller man. “Of course Tony. You're my friend. If you ever need me to hang out again just let me know okay? You don't have to sit up here and drink alone. I'm here for you.”

Tony nodded. “Thanks Buck.”

Tony moved back and turned back towards the elevator. “I'll pack this up and put it in the fridge.” He called as the elevator doors closed.

He had gotten the bacon and sausage put away and was finding a container for the eggs when Jarvis spoke. “Captain Rogers has returned.” 

“Thanks J. Tell him I'll be down.”

“He is requesting your assistance.” 

Scraping the eggs into a bowl he tossed it into the fridge and jogged the few feet to the elevator. 

When the doors opened he stepped off. “Hey Stevie everything oka-” Steve was still in his full gear and there was blood. “You said this wasn't a mission. What happened? Are you okay?” 

Steve flashed him a weak smile. “Sure could use some help getting out of this.” 

He rushed to release the buckles on the uniform. Each new inch of skin seemed to be covered in a layer of blood and bruising. “Seriously Steve?! What the fuck happened?” He demanded as he guided Steve to sit so he could remove his boots.

“The winter soldier. Josh? John?”

“Josef?”

“Yeah he's not dead.” Steve said tightly as he eased off Steve's sock. His toes, like the rest of him, were red and purple with blood and bruising. “He was waiting for us when we landed back in New York. Clipped him good though, he may not be alive now.”

Steve hissed softly as he helped him stand again to pull off his pants. “Jesus Stevie. Why didn't you call for backup?”

“Couldn't. As soon as the firefight started I tried to radio for backup but comms were down both personal and the airfield ones. My phone's been shot too.” He carefully pulled the undershirt away from where the blood had dried it to Steve's chest. It looked like the cuts were already mostly healed. A large gash across his ribs and stomach seemed to account for most of the blood he'd seen. Helping Steve out of his underwear the man stood still as he examined the injuries. 

“Jesus Stevie.” Most of Steve's torso was bruised. He frowned. “You jumped on a fucking bomb didn't you?” He could see now where the shield had cut into him and the force of the blast had bruised in a radial pattern getting lighter as it moved from his right to his left. “For fucks sake Stevie.”

“ _ I had to!” _ Steve said his voice raising defiantly. “If I hadn't it would have killed the whole crew!”

“So what? Potentially liquifying your internal organs was the way to go?! Damn it Steve you can't keep doing shit like this! Throw your shield send it away. Pick it up and fucking throw it! Your life is no less valuable than anyone else's so quit fucking jumping on every live fucking wire!”

“You know w-” Steve's argument dissolve into a coughing fit. When Steve wiped his mouth there was blood on the back of his hand. 

“Fuck! J, tell Tony we are coming down.”

“Bucky, what? No. I'm fine.”

“Like fuck you are.” He grabbed a towel to loop around Steve's waist before grabbing his less bruised arm and pulling him into the elevator.

The doors opened and Tony's music muted. “Tony. I need you to do a scan. Steve laid on a fucking bomb and is coughing up blood.” He said his heart thundering in his ears. “If you fucking damaged yourself I'm going to kill you. I want you to understand that.”

“I'm fine Bucky really.”

“J, let's see what's going on.” Tony said, uncharacteristically focused. 

Seconds later a blue scan of Steve floated before them. Red and yellow showed exactly what the bruising did, rings of decreasing damage the farther from the away blast. Tony moved closer, quickly moving his hands to change the scans size and zoom in. “There's where the blood is coming from. He's got minor damage to his lung but the serum…”

Even as Tony spoke the red on the screen faded to yellow. “By my calculations Captain Rogers’ internal damage will be healed within the next three hours with full healing completing in eight to nine hours.”

He pulled in a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. “Thank you Tony. I'm gonna get this asshole upstairs and get him cleaned off.”

“I told you I was fucking fine!” Steve snapped once they were in the elevator. 

“Keep it up I'll find enough iodine to fill a bath and drop you in it.” He said. His anger had dissolved and he was suddenly very acutely aware just how little sleep he'd gotten the night before.

Steve stalked into the bathroom as soon as the elevator opened, tossing the now bloody towel at his uniform as he passed. Steve was very clearly limping but he didn't have the energy to fight about how Steve's legs, which wouldn't have been protected by the shield, were probably pretty messed up. 

He dropped into the toilet lid as Steve stepped into the shower. Now that the panic had subsided his stomach churned at seeing all the blood. As the shower washed over Steve and the water turned red, he had to look away as his stomach did another flop. They only sound in the room was the soft spray of the water and the sound of Steve moving around beneath it. “Buck?”

“Yeah Steve?”

“You okay?”

“Not really.” He admitted before he could stop himself. 

“Because of me?”

“Yes and no.” He sighed. “I was up with Tony most of the night. He and Pepper had a fight and he was pretty low. Ended up spending the night up in the penthouse.”

“Oh.” Something in Steve's voice made him realize how that sounded.

“We didn't do anything.” He said quickly.

“Good. I'm not sure Pepper would have been okay with that.” Steve said softly.

“Just Pepper? What about you Stevie?”

The water splashed softly and he could only guess Steve had shrugged. “Doesn't really get under my skin. Didn't back then, doesn't now. If it had to be someone I'd rather it be Tony.”

“You'd  _ rather _ it be Tony? Jesus Stevie should we have checked your head too?”

“Tony and I don't like each other but you two work. I never exactly got on with the dames you were with before but that didn't mean I wanted you to stop. I do stand by Pepper not being okay with it though.”

He stayed quiet for several breaths just trying to process  _ that. _ Finally giving up and storing it away for later he continued. “Anyway, Tony was pretty low so I got him to bed. He woke up over and over in the night. Panic attacks, getting sick, the whole nine. Didn't sleep much at all. Then everything.” He made a gesture towards Steve. “And fucking Josef. I thought he was gone. I'll have to call Natalia, let her know he's just staying low.”

“I'm sorry to have worried you Buck.” The shower stopped and he looked up, blinking at the brightness of the bathroom lights after having his eyes closed so long.

Steve looked like death warmed over. With the blood washed from his skin it was easy to see the bruising going from almost black to faintly yellow across his body. The gash on his side, he guessed where the shield had cut into him, was starting to close which was good. He stood and wrapped his arms around Steve ignoring how wet Steve still was. Steve moved a bit gingerly but still hugged him back all the same. “Let's go lay down.” Steve said softly into his ear.

He followed Steve back into the bedroom and tossed his clothes at the hamper before curling up under the sheets and burrowing against Steve's side. He was careful to avoid the worst of the bruising. He closed his eyes and pulled in the familiar smell of Steve. He dropped a few kisses across Steve's chest. “Please just be more careful Stevie.”

“Yeah Buck. I will.” Steve said.

He closed his eyes and let sleep catch him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

February 3rd

In spite of Natalia and Jarvis's best efforts Josef stayed in the wind though there were no further attacks. Still knowing he was out there made him nervous. Knowing what Josef was capable of made things worse.

He stepped out of the elevator and into the shop. Tony was sitting in the middle of the lab. His right hand clutching tightly to a spot on his left arm. “Bucky. Hey. Glad you're here. Listen, how steady are your hands?” Tony's voice sounded tight, he was nervous.

“You know they are steady, I was a sniper for fucks sake. What's going on Tony?” He moved through the lab to stand next to the man. 

“One of the sub dermal micro-repeaters is misfiring. I need to lance it out and--”

“ _ Lance it? _ Tony you know I can't handle blood.” He said.

“I know. I know. Please? I. Pepper is out till next week and it can't wait that long it's.” Tony reached up and pulled his right hand over to Tony’s arm, pressing his fingers against the skin. “It's shocking me.” Under his hand he could feel the muscles in Tony's arm spasming as the electrical current pulsed through them. 

“I'd have Bruce do it but he's still in space. Pepper is gone and I can't.” Tony held up his right hand which was shaking visibly. He wondered if this was the pain Tony had mentioned that sometimes set into his joints and made it hard for Tony to grasp small objects. Or was the shaking just due to the pain from the shocks in his left arm.

“You know I wouldn't ask if I had even a chance of doing this myself.” Tony said, quietly. That was the truth.

He sighed. “If I throw up on you it's on you.” He said, trying to flash a smile. “Literally and figuratively.”

Tony relaxed visibly. “Yeah DUM-E was supposed to be getting a bucket. I don't know wher-. There he is.” Tony said as the robot trundled over a bucket clasp in its claw. 

“Just assumed I was going to help huh?” He asked, collecting the bucket when it was offered over.

“No. No. Don't mistake hope for assumption.” Tony said a half smile on his face.

He grabbed a chair and sat in front of Tony. Tony dropped a few towels over his lap then stretched his arm out, the back of Tony's hand resting halfway up his leg, warming the skin through his jeans. He felt the area carefully to make sure he knew exactly where it was.

“It's not very deep.” Tony told him and he nodded.

“You owe me.” He said, grabbing the scalpel from the bench next to Tony. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath and steeled himself before carefully cutting right next to the repeater.

Tony hissed softly and a line if blood began to flow down his arm. His stomach rolled but he forced himself to focus. He deepen the cut slightly. Blood was flowing more freely. He could feel the liquid warming the towels on his leg. 

Taking the insulated tweezers Tony offered he pressed on the side of the repeater, forcing it to move towards the cut. As soon as he saw it become visible through the cut he pulled it out with the tweezers. 

It made an audible pop of electricity as it was freed. He set it on the workbench. Tony reached behind himself and grabbed a cloth which he wrapped tightly around his arm. 

“Thanks Buck.” He said his voice still unusually quiet.

He nodded, not completely sure opening his mouth was a good plan quite yet. Tony held the pressure for several minutes before grabbing a few steri-strips, trying to angle them properly while still holding pressure.

“Here.” He said, reaching out and taking the strips. He'd done ok so far, might as well keep pushing. Tony opened his mouth to protest but closed it without speaking. 

Tony stretched his arm back out and unwrapped the cloth. The blood flow was already slowing from the shallow cut. He set the edge of the strip and pulled gently so the two sides of the cut were pulled together before sticking down the other half of the strip. Tony handed him a second and then a third strip. 

As soon as he was done he jumped up. Grabbing a clean towel he wiped his hands but it only seemed to work the blood into his skin. He moved over to the sink and scrubbed his hands, staring straight ahead so he didn't have to see the blood in the water. 

His stomach was still rolling as he dried his hands. When he turned, Tony had already binned the towels that had been on his leg. Tony was sitting again, as though he'd never moved, a gauze pad and ace wrap covering the cut on his arm. He was holding the tiny repeater in the tweezers examining it.

He moved back over to where Tony sat. “You good?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. I'm good.” He said.

Tony stood. “Thank you.” Tony repeated. 

“Next time tell your tech to have problems when Pepper is here to babysit.” 

“Babysit?!” Tony said indignantly. “Fuck you.” 

He laughed. Tony stood and pulled him into a hug. He returned it easily.

“I'll make sure and keep my completely unpredictable mechanical issues to a more convenient schedule from now on.” Tony said.

“Good.”

“Want to watch me replace that repeater?” Tony was grinning.

“Really Tony? Shouldn't you let it--.”

“Ah. No see what I asked was if you wanted to watch, not for permission to do it. So. Staying or going?”

He glared at Tony but sat back in his chair nonetheless. Tony pulled out a handheld device and showed how it both cut a tiny hole in the skin and implanted the repeater at the same time. 

Tony answered the few questions he had but for being one of Tony's inventions, this one was fairly straightforward. 

“This does make me bleed but it's a very small amount.” Tony warned before lining up immediately above the gauze. He watched closely. There was a sharp metallic pop and it was over in an instant. A few drops of blood welled up which Tony wiped away easily. It was amazing to see the things Tony's mind could come up with.

He reached over to the defective one they'd removed. “I wouldn't touch it.” Tony said sharply. “It's still sending out shocks.”

Curiosity getting the better of him he touched it with the pad of his thumb. The shock made him jump as it spiked straight up his arm. “ _ That _ was happening in your arm?” He asked, turning to Tony who simply shrugged. “How long was it doing that?” Tony was sending the bucket away with the robot, ignoring him.

“ _ Tony.”  _ He snapped, anger blooming in his chest. “ _ How long.” _

“You don't like blood and there was no way that wasn't going to bleed. Besides, Pepper has gotten really good at taking them out.”

“Damn it Tony. There are other people in this tower! You employe literally thousands of people! If you didn't think I was capable then get someone else to help!” He was yelling. When had he started yelling?

Tony turned to face him now, his expression set. “Nat and Clint are playing house. Bruce is gone to who knows fucking where. Do you _ see _ the problem here?”

He pushed his hand through his hair. He wasn't this mad at Tony. He took a deep breath, forcing the anger away.

“Just next time  _ tell _ me ok? If I can't help maybe Steve can.” Tony pulled a face. “I know you don't see eye to eye, literally.” He smirked.

“Nice. Real nice.” Tony said, without heat in his tone.

“But he had the same field training I did, maybe more. He can help too. Ok? Don't hurt yourself just because you don't trust anyone to help.”

“I'll tell you next time.” Tony conceded quietly. Then immediately back to his normal volume and bravado, “I could use a drink. You want a drink?”

He smiled as Tony headed for the elevator before following behind. “Yeah. Drink sounds good.”

March 21st

He stretched lazily on the couch tucking closer into Steve's side. He'd been alternating between dozing and watching Planet Earth which by it's design was probably the best show in history to sleep to. Steve was half working on something on his tablet but if his breathing now was any indication Steve was falling asleep.

“Jarvis what time is it?” He asked without moving. Silence save for Steve's rumbling breath filled the room. “Jarvis?” He rolled to his feet, heart pounding. “Steve! Steve wake up!”

Steve at up blinking. “What? Buck what?”

“Jarvis?!” He repeated. Silence filled the room. Something was wrong.

Steve was on his feet too, looking around. “Tony isn't doing maintenance is he?” Steve asked.

He shook his head. “He's got kids here all day. Doing something for international forest day.” He said. He moved to the bedroom, Steve on his tail. He managed to pull on body armor in record time. Steve pulled a gun from the closet and hesitated before tossing it to him. 

“Hopefully we won't need it.” Steve said softly, grabbing his shield. “Jarvis?” He called again. No reply came. In the living room Steve pressed the call button for the elevator. It was strange, it not just being there waiting for them. “What floor were they on?” Steve looked at him.

“Sevent-” an explosion shook the building. It had definitely come from below. A beeping behind the elevator doors signaled the elevator stopping somewhere on its way up. He stepped back a roll of panic filling his chest. Was there a way down if the elevator stopped? 

Steve pulled open the elevator doors. Reaching around the side of the door his hand searched blindly for something then pulled a handle. With a soft click a walkway folded down from the side of the elevator shaft. Looking up there was an opening straight across the other side of the shaft. Steve crossed quickly and he followed. 

“Close the door behind you.” Steve said. It's a fire door just in case. He turned and shut the elevator door. Steve's shield was painted on the other side of the door. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Another explosion echoed from below pulling him back to the moment. Steve was already descending down the concrete stairs. He followed quickly checking the safety on his gun as well as verifying it was loaded. They checked each door on the way down but it wasn't until the twentieth floor they began to encounter Stark staff evacuating. 

Through checking with a few people they determine the blasts were indeed coming from the seventh floor where Tony was supposed to be spending the day with the kids. The sea of employees parted, letting them through. 

Opening the door to the seventh floor a rolling wave of heat hit them the floor was on fire, though the sprinklers were battling to contain it. There was no sign of Tony or the kids. He released the safety at they moved carefully through the flames. He wished he had something to cover his mouth with. Even with the serum the flames burned hot and the smoke was hard to breath.

The tat of guns was the only warning they had before a rain of gunfire began. They both dropped, Steve's shield the only thing that stopped them both getting hit. He peeked up over a desk and managed to take out two of the gunmen. They wore Hydra armor. He waited but no more men popped up. “Cover me.” Steve whispered before making a run at their hiding spot. 

He only made it halfway across the burning room before something slammed into his side. Josef. He tried to aim at the pair but a bullet ricocheted next to his left ear and he was forced to focus on the group of gunners. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Josef pull a blade on Steve. He dropped another Hydra agent before dropping and beginning to crawl. He needed a better vantage point if he was going to help Steve. 

He heard the sharp twang of the blade skittering across Steve's shield. It sounded like he was holding his own. The fire was dying down making it easier to see. He took out the rest of the agents that had been hiding behind the overturned desk and charged at Josef. Josef's back was to him. Josef stood over Steve, who was down on one knee. Josef's elbow and arm pushed against Steve's shield, his knife over top of the shield was just inches from Steve's face. 

His arm whirred as he tossed the gun. Josef started to turn but he was quicker. Grabbing the man by the skull he lifted Josef off Steve and squeezed until he felt the bones shatter under his hand. Josef's body went limp and he threw him roughly in the direction of where the agents he'd shot were hiding. “Steve. Stevie. You okay?” He asked, gently pulling Steve's shield away from the other man's grasp.

Steve had a gash across his cheek and blood seeping from his shoulder made it look like he'd probably taken a bullet but otherwise he seemed okay. “Are  _ you _ okay?” Steve's whole body looked tense, uncertain.

“Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. Looks like you took the brunt of it.”

Steve opened his mouth to speak but another voice came from over his shoulder. “Looks like I missed all the fun.” Tony, fully suited up, landed next to him. “You alright there Cap?” Tony asked looking over at Steve. Steve hadn't gained his feet, remaining knelt on the ground.

“Steve?” He asked again.

“Yeah I'm fine.” Steve stood.

With a whir Tony's suit opened up and he stepped out. Tony surveyed the damage. “J cut the water, start venting and drying this floor.”

“Certainly sir.” Jarvis's cool voice cut through the sprinklers.

“He's back.” He smiled at Tony. “That's how we knew something was up. I tried to talk to Jarvis but he didn't answer.”

“Yeah they used the kids, put something on one of his panels. Only gave them about 10 minutes but that was enough.” Tony moved around looking at Josef and then behind the desk and cabinets where the Hydra gunners had been. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“This was you?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned at Tony.

“A few weeks ago you turned green at like four drops of blood when you lanced my arm. Now I'm pretty sure that isn't  _ your _ grey matter on your hand…” Tony tapered off.

A feeling hit his stomach like being tossed from a plane. At once his eyes locked to the blood mixing with the water. The only thing he could feel was the slimy squishy sensation at the end of his fingers. His stomach rolled and he barely managed to stumble away from the other two before he was throwing up. Without looking he tapped the code into his shoulder and his arm fell away taking the horrible sensation with it.

He struggled to balance at the sudden change in weight. Tony was closer, made it there quicker. He felt the smaller man grab ahold of him and stabilize him as the tried to fall. Steve was there a moment after, carefully pulling his hair away from his face.

“Come on Buck. Let's go.” Steve's voice was soft. His head spun. His hand and legs felt numb. He wasn't even sure he could still walk. Steve's hands gently pulled him towards the elevator. “J are the elevators back up?” Steve called as they moved.

“Yes sir. I have restored all function to the tower.” 

He was only aware there'd entered the elevator when the floor under him shook slightly. Tony had come too he realized, was carrying his arm. His stomach rolled again and he slapped his hand over his mouth to keep from throwing up again. 

“Come on Buck. Let's go wash up” Steve said quietly as he guided him into the bedroom. He struggled to pull at his uniform but his fingers felt thick and heavy. Steve hands soothed his away before carefully beginning to loosen his clothes. “I want you to close your eyes and keep them closed until I say otherwise. Understand?” 

He nodded. He heard Steve move closer and begin to pull off his clothes. Hands quietly guided him to the bathroom and into the shower. “When you are done, call for me okay?” Steve asked.

“Okay Stevie.” His voice was hoarse when he answered. Eyes closed he leaned against the wall for balance as he washed his face and hair and then his body. “Steve?” He called turning his closed eyes towards the door.

“Be right there Buck.” Steve called.

After a minute he heard footsteps enter the bathroom. “You can open your eyes now Buck.” Steve said softly. 

He blinked, the bathroom seemed overbright after his eyes being closed. Steve was shirtless and wearing sweatpants. The cut on his cheek was clean and covered and Steve was holding a gauze pad to the bullet wound in his shoulder. “Hey Buck. How you feeling?” He asked softly.

“Dizzy.” He said quietly. 

“Yeah let's get you dried off and dressed we can go sit on the couch ok?” He nodded, accepting Steve's help in stepping out of the shower. “Close your eyes again. Tony stitched me up but it's still weeping a bit.” 

He didn't protest as he closed his eyes and Steve dried him off. He was guided into the bedroom where Steve walked him through dressing with his eyes closed. “Good?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah Buck. We are good.” He opened his eyes again. Steve was back to clutching the gauze pad. He followed Steve into the living room. Tony sat at the table with his arm which had been cleaned and polished till it gleamed. Tony was bent over the hand with a small screwdriver working on something but straightened when they entered the room.

“Hey Bucky. Feeling better?” Tony asked quietly. 

Frustration pushed up through the haze. “I'm not fucking invalid you don't have to treat me like I'm gonna fucking explode okay I'm  _ fine!”  _

“Yeah you sound like it.” Tony sounded sarcastic.

“Tony!” Steve snapped. “Bucky, you kinda went Winter Soldier on us and we are just worried that's all. You haven't seen action like that since you got out.”

“Yeah you seemed pretty checked out there Buckaroo. We were just worried. I got your arm cleaned and recalibrated.” Tony picked it up and passed it to him. His whole body crawled as the memory of the slimy feeling rolled over him again. With effort he forced himself to reattach the arm. Tony had done a good job, the arm felt completely clean. He wished the memory could be cleaned away so easily. For a split second he wished for the ability to wipe his mind, force away all the horrible memories that seemed desperate to claw their way out. The realization of what he was wishing for made his stomach roll again and he dropped heavily into the couch.

“At least.” He stopped his voice too thin and tight. Coughing he tried again. “At least Josef isn't after me anymore.”

“He never was.” Steve sat next to him. “He told me during the fight. I killed his parents when I began wiping out Hydra. He blamed you for exposing them in shield but he blamed me for their death. He wanted me dead.”

He blinked at Steve, struggling to process that idea.

“Sir?” Jarvis spoke into the quiet.

“Yeah?”

“The floor has been dried. When you are ready I have builders waiting in conference room 14 for you to speak with.”

“That's my cue. Are you two okay?” Tony asked.

He nodded and Steve said yes and with that it was just the two of them on the apartment.

“I love you Bucky.” Steve's voice was hesitant.

“Love you too Stevie. I'm sorry.”

“Why?”

“I didn't want to kill again but then as soon as I could I was right back to my programming. Right back to what they made me.”

“Bucky you were a soldier before Hydra ever even saw you. There was an emergency and you were there ready to respond. That's nothing to be sorry for.”

He nodded and just wish it felt that way. “I just. I wasn't myself Stevie. It was like nothing ever changed. I can't do that. I can't be that again. Unless… Unless it's really bad, like super soldier bad I can't anymore. I just can't be around it. I'm so scared I'll go back and if I do what if then I can never be normal again? What if I get so lost there isn't any coming back? I'm sorry Stevie. I just can't.”

“It's okay Buck. There isn't anything wrong with that. It's your decision. For what it's worth I don't think you'd ever be that far gone but I respect your choice, okay?”

He swallowed past a lump he hadn't even noticed was forming. “Thanks Stevie.” He cleared his throat. “How's your shoulder?” He carefully reached for the gauze.

“It's okay but don't I think it's still bleeding.” Steve moved back from his touch.

“It's okay. I can handle it.” He gently pulled the gauze away. The stitches were clean and even, four in total very close together. Tony had done a good job. As he watched a small bead of blood welled up. His stomach threatened to churn but he forced it down. He gently cleaned the drop away. “Tony did good.”

“Unfortunately I think he's had a lot of practice.” Steve said flashing him a smirk. “Thank you Buck. I know it was hard but you saved my ass multiple times today.”

“Of course Stevie. I'm just glad you're okay.”

“I'm glad  _ we _ are okay.” Steve leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. He smiled as he returned the favor.

April 5

“I apologise for waking you but Thor is arriving in the penthouse.” Jarvis voice cut through his sleep. He was about to ask Jarvis why the fuck he or Steve would care when a boom all to similar to an explosion echoed overhead. He sat straight up in bed.

“W’sat?” Steve mumbled, jolting up next to him.

“Thor?” He said uncertainly.

“Hmm yeah he does that. Lay back down Buck is okay.” Steve mumbled pulling at his arm. 

Hesitantly he laid back down but the explosion had made his heart pound. After at least an hour he carefully slipped from under Steve's weight waking him up enough to let him know he was going to see what Thor had wanted.

He didn't bother doing more than pulling on a pair of sweatpants before wandering to the elevator. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as he walked through their living room. The elevator doors opened and then closed behind him once he stepped in and then nothing happened. 

He stood still waiting for several long moments. “Umm. J? Can you take me to Tony?” He said, an unease blooming in his stomach. Another full minute passed before the elevator began to trundle down. He felt supremely unprepared. Should he have gotten up? Awoken Steve? Grabbed something more protecting then the cotton pants sitting low on his waist?

The elevator doors opened the chaos. Tony stood in the middle of more than a dozen screens, his hands flying. A constant stream of words flowed from his mouth with Jarvis occasionally managing a reply when Tony took a breath.

“Tony?” If Tony noticed he didn't acknowledge him. He continued to stare unblinkingly at the screens around him. He approached cautiously. His eyes tracked across the visible screens, they all appeared to be different. The one closest to him was lines of coding bring written he realized by Jarvis as Tony dictated. Another two screen displayed schematics of the tower, one with certain areas highlighted red, the other with what appeared to be the pipes and ductwork in bright white. Another screen showed a map combined with planes flying along dotted lines. A small picture of Pepper was in the corner of that screen. And there were other screens with other faces. Steve's screen showed him still sleeping. One he was surprised to see was Bruce who was in his lab upstairs. He saw his own face on a screen showing him standing watching Tony. A screen almost immediately in front of Tony caught his attention. A man's face, the image blurry and wild with bright blue eyes and long black hair. Loki? But the video showed what was unmistakably one of the guest rooms in the tower. 

Pulling his eyes away from the screens he looked back at Tony. The man was dressed hurriedly in the same clothes he'd been wearing yesterday. His hair stuck up at wild angles. His eyes were still wide as he manipulated the schematics in front of him while continuing to dictate coding for Jarvis. 

“Tony!” He called and the other man jumped sideways, crashing into a workbench. Tony dropped to the floor, wide eyes still staring straight ahead, breathing short and tight.

He knelt next to Tony. “Hey. Tony come on you're okay. Breathe.”

Tony's wide eyes snapped to his face. “Buck.” Tony gasped out. “Bucky.” “Need your help.” “Need to.”

“No Tony not yet.” Tony's looked so scared it made his heart hurt. “Right now I need you to breathe with me okay?” He gathered Tony into his chest. 

“No!” Tony sounded frantic. “No! I need. Have to.” Tony's breathing was somehow getting more ragged as he spoke.

“Not letting you up till you breathe Tony.” He said softly into Tony's ear. “In.” He pulled in a breath and waited. It took a moment before Tony pulled in a shaky breath. “Good,” he crooned “and out.” Tony exhaled in a whoosh of air.

It took a solid nine minutes before Tony's breathing seemed to stabilize. Tony's hands still shook slightly where they clung to his shirt. “Okay Tony. We are going to take this real slow. If anything starts to freak you out we will stop and circle back okay?” Tony nodded into his shirt. “Is Loki here?” He questioned, keeping his voice level. Over Tony's head he watched the screen with Loki's face. The man on the screen was sitting on the floor leaning back on the couch watching out the windows. He could see Loki's lips moving but no sound came through the feed. Tony nodded again. “Can you tell me why?” 

“Thor brought him.”

“If I may Sir?” Jarvis asked. 

“Yeah.” Tony said. One of the feeds of the tower flickered and became a new recording this one with sound. He watched as Thor and Bruce convinced Tony to let Loki stay. 

“Where is Pepper?” He asked.

“Flight to London.” Tony sounded a bit more like himself. “Out of harm's way when this goes sideways, and it will.”

Tony tried to lean back and he didn't stop him. “What's all this?” He asked from his spot on the floor as Tony stood.

“I need to reinforce the building, update security.” Tony's voice seemed back to normal. “J, what's the last you got?”

He remained sitting, watching Tony as he worked. At least Tony was blinking now. It seemed to have been the only change he'd made but maybe it was something. 

“J, scan it then implement.” Tony said after another hour of work. 

“Security changes of this measure will require a completely shutdown for approximately three seconds. Shall I continue?”

Tony's eyes skimmed the projections. Everyone but Loki was asleep. “Run it.”

With a soft clunk the power to the shop and presumably the entire building cut off. What felt like the longest three seconds in the universe passed in the dark and then a soft hum announced the power up. The projections came on before the lights. Loki was on his feet looking around but otherwise there were no changes to those in the tower. “How's it look J?” Tony asked as the overhead lights came on.

“New protocols functional and holding steady.”

“Good work J.” Tony turned to him. “I'm going to be working outside the rest of the day. Tell J if you need me okay?”

He nodded. “Same Tony. Don't let yourself get in your head again.” Tony offered a hand which he took, letting Tony pull him to his feet. He wrapped Tony in a hug which Tony easily returned. “It's alright if I let Steve know?”

“Yeah” Tony said with a sigh. Best everyone who lives here know in case we need to suit up.”

He took the elevator up as Tony suited up and headed outside. Steve was still asleep so he started coffee and breakfast. The smell of bacon was all it took to get Steve wandering into the living room. “Hey Buck. What'd Thor want?” Steve asked as he dropped onto the couch.

“He brought Loki here.” He said, realizing a moment after he spoke that maybe not everyone was supposed to know.

Steve went still. “Bucky. I'm not sure what kind of joke that is supposed to be but-”

“Jarvis? Pull the feed?”

Their TV flickered and the live feed of Loki filled it. The man sat almost unmoving watching out there windows. He'd dropped back to the floor, his left knee bent and his arm stretched out and resting in it. Steve started almost as unblinking as Tony had. Unlike Tony there was no fear in Steve's face. His jaw was clenched, his brow set. “Why did he bring him?” Steve finally asked tightly.

“For protection. To be monitored” he echoed what he remembered from the recording.

“Protected?!” Steve was on his feet, shock and anger warring on his face. “That! That monster! He doesn't deserve protection! He deserves prison at least! Where is Tony?!” Steve stalked towards the elevator.

“He's working on security.” He said. Steve whirled to look at him.

“Working on security?! Against  _ Loki? _ There is no security that will protect us if he goes off.”

“Mr. Stark is currently out of the building.” Jarvis said when Steve stopped at the elevator door.

“Is he in his suit? Patch me through Jarvis!”

There was a long pause before Jarvis answered. “Your request is denied.”

“Denied! Tony fucking denied me. Damn it Jarvis put me through!”

“Mr. Stark did not deny your request. I did.” 

Steve was momentarily stunned into silence. “You?” He finally managed.

“I'm sorry sir but you are in no fit state to communicate with Mr. Stark.”

“This isn't a fucking request Jarvis is an order. Put! Me! Through!” Steve's face was red with anger and frustration. 

“Stevie. Enough.” He said softly. He crossed to the living room and pulled Steve's arm. 

Steve turned to him. “You weren't here last time. You don't know. He can't be here. He can't.”

“Bruce and Thor both insist he's changed.” He said softly. “They talked a lot about things he's done, how he's proven himself.”

“Bruce too?” Steve asked, uncertainty clear on his face.

“Yeah. Bruce came back with Thor.”

“Jarvis is Bruce awake?”

Jarvis didn't answer but the elevator doors opened. Steve stepped through them and disappeared.

He sat alone for a long while, watching the feed of Loki. The video was black and white and made him think of the films he'd seen growing up. The rise and fall of Loki's chest was the only sign of life coming from the man. Even as the sun rose high enough to shine directly in the man's eyes. Something tugged at the back of his mind. He picked up a Stark Pad. “J leave that on the screen but show me the video from earlier when he got startled?” The tablet updated the feed. He played the video on the Tab until it showed a clear shot of Loki's face. Pausing it he looked between the current feed and the still image.

The differences we subtle but side by side they were noticeable. In the still image Loki's hair was messier and looked like he hadn't done anything to try to brush or style it. In the feed his hair was perfectly smooth and soft. His face too looked different. In the still image he looked anxious and tired but on the feed he looked calm, well rested, relaxed. Was he hiding his true self? It made sense, surrounded by people ready to kill him. Still the Loki both in the images and in the feed didn't look anything like the videos he'd seen of the New York attack.

The elevator doors opened, he closed the still image. Steve stepped out looking considerably less agitated than when he'd left. “What'd Bruce say?” He asked as Steve approached.

Steve pushed a hand through his hair with a sigh. “He really does seem to be trying to make amends. I don't trust it and I don't trust him but…” Steve walked over and dropped next to him on the sofa. “Until he does anything I don't have any reason to attack him so what else can really be done? Who knows? Maybe he really has changed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

April 10th

The next few days sped by in a whirl of activity. Tony seemed completely set to never eat or sleep again. It had taken four days to complete the upgrades on the tower's 'infrastructure’ but instead of resting after that was completed Tony had rushed to the lab to work on upgrades to the suit. 

He'd started spending most of his free time keeping Tony company while also reminding him to eat and drink something that wasn't pure caffeine.

Loki had still been under constant surveillance. Jarvis had kept the feed running on their TV. When he wasn't down in the lab with Tony he watched the feed with interest. 

Loki, as well as anyone could see, had settled into his life well enough. He ate, showered, read over the books on the shelves, yesterday he'd even started figuring out the TV. Still his features remained glass smooth. It made him wonder if he'd been wrong. Maybe the circles under his eyes had just been a trick of the light.

He currently sat watching Tony make “one last adjustment” number thirty two to the left hand of his suit.

“J tell me when he's done. Don't let him start on another part.” He said running his face.

He'd been actively trying to get Tony to bed for more than two hours. Tony had promised to be done after the first “final adjustment” but each change seemed to break another 5 things that all would then need fixed.

“I'm not a child.” Tony said grumpily.

“No you're an adult with an inadequate respect for the fact you need sleep to continue being alive.”

Tony shot him a glare but didn't answer.

“Sir has completed the adjustment.” Jarvis said.

“Good. Come on Tony. Dinner, shower, bed.” He pulled Tony up from the bench.

“I am perfectly capable of getting ready without your help.”

“Tony, you said that yesterday and then Jarvis told me you were up all night drawing schematics. So you bought this on yourself.” Tony glared. He looked horrible. His eyes had dark rings under them. He hadn't shaved since Loki's arrival and he had the start of a full on beard trying to grow in. He was fairly confident the other man had lost a bit of weight too. “Jarvis. I don't know how you need to do it but unless there is an emergency, no feeds, no news, no check ins. You've got to try and rest.”

“Jarvis override that command.” Tony said.

“I'm sorry Sir. It is in your best interest for me to uphold Sargent Barnes’ order.”

Tony looked ready to throw something as they stepped into the penthouse. “Sit. I'll make something up.” He said giving Tony a push towards the couches. Tony stalked over and sat, picking up a Stark Pad. The screen on the tablet remained blank and Tony groaned. 

By the time he brought a plate of food over to Tony the other man was starting to nod off, his head tipped back against the back of the couch. Tony ate without protest. It seemed sitting still for ten minutes was all Tony had needed to burn out the last of his energy. As soon as the plate was clean he pulled Tony up again. “Shower.”

“You gonna join me?” Tony flashed a grin. 

“I know it's been awhile but surely you haven't forgotten how to use the knobs?” He said in mock concern. “Turn the red one for hot. Remember red is _ hot.”  _ He carefully enunciated each word.

“Fuck you.” Tony snapped before stomping towards the shower. A thought crossed his mind.

“Tony wait.” He followed Tony who came to a stop at his words. “I have a question, but I want a serious answer okay? No bullshit.” Tony nodded. “Do you want me to hang out in there so you aren't alone?”

Tony was quiet a long time before nodding. Tony's bathroom was fucking huge. He sat on the counter and kept his head turned away as Tony stripped and stepped into the shower. Steam filled the room as Tony washed.

“I don't know how much longer I'll be able to keep Pep away.” Tony said into the quiet. 

“Oh?” 

“She's been pressing me for days”

“Don't you think if anything was going to happen it would have by now?”

“Loki is crazy. He can't be predicted like that.” Tony's voice was tight.

“I mean last time most of his actions were pretty predictable according to the report that you wrote.”

Tony stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. “But last time we knew the end game. He came right out and said it. This time he's not telling anyone. He has to be preparing for something out waiting for something to happen.”

“Or maybe he really is done with all that Tony.” 

“I can't. I can't keep her safe if she's here. It's too close.”

“She can't never come back either.” He said keeping his voice gentle. Tony moved into his field of vision having pulled on a pair of boxers. “Come on, let's go get some sleep.”

Tony nodded. “You don't have to stay all night. Just till I'm able to fall asleep.”

He glanced at the clock next to the bed as he pulled back the sheets. 3:38 a.m. He sighed. So much for getting any reasonable sleep himself that night. It took less than ten minutes for Tony to begin snoring. The soft beginning of piano signaled Tony was completely asleep. He considered leaving but had little doubt Tony would wake up with nightmares. 

He pulled out his phone and shot a text to Steve letting him know where he would be. Force of habit formed over the last few days made him launch the feed one last time before bed. Loki was sitting up in bed. He was so still at first it like the first day when he'd stared out at the city. But then he noticed the dark circles were back though maybe less noticeable than before. 

Loki must not expect anyone to be watching so late, he decided. Or maybe it took some effort to do that Loki couldn't maintain during sleep. He stared at the other man for another moment before putting his phone down and settling under the sheets. 

April 13th

“Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark is requesting your presence in conference room 3.” Jarvis's voice cut through the quiet of the apartment. 

He looked over at Steve then up towards the ceiling. “Just Steve?” He asked.

“That is correct.”

He glanced at Steve again who shrugged. “Guess I'll be back in a bit?” Steve said uncertainly. 

“I was going to head down to the gym so if I'm not here I'll probably be there.” Steve nodded. As Steve passed he paused, leaning down for a kiss. He stretched up from where he was stretched out to meet Steve's lips. Steve smiled before heading to the elevator.

He stood, stretching and setting aside the book he'd been reading. He wandered into the bedroom and changed before heading for the elevator. What could Tony want to talk to Steve about but not him? What if it was a mission or something? He'd made it pretty clear to Tony he was tapping out after Josef's attack but if this was how missions would work, Steve just disappearing, he wasn't okay with it. He considered turning right back around and finding conference room 3 and demanding Tony let him into whatever was going on when his phone buzzed.

>It's just a thing about Loki. No worries.

He closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath he didn't know he was holding before texting back.

>>Thanks for telling me.

Pocketing his phone he turned his attention to one of the punching bags. He wasn't exactly sure how long he stayed there, music filling his mind but even he gestured for Jarvis to cut the music he was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Deciding he was good he unwrapped his hand and headed for the elevator.

He was still a bit lost in his own head and almost ran square into Peter who was already standing in the elevator. “Shit sorry Peter. What's up?”

Peter's eyes were a bit wider than normal and he looked…something. He couldn't quite place the expression on the younger man's face. “I...just met Loki.” Peter sounded stunned.

“Really? Why?” He asked, stepping back to give Peter room to step off the elevator. 

“So I guess yesterday Loki just disappeared from the tower. It was only like a few hours and he came back on his own but Mr. Stark got  _ really _ freaked out. So he tried to call Thor all day yesterday but he couldn't get through so he called everyone who helped out with the first invasion. I was already here when everyone else was around so he let me stay too and he was trying to figure out what to do and”

“Everyone?” he cut through Peter's explanation.

“Yeah, umm Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Steve and then Mr. Stark and me.” He nodded so Peter continued. “Anyway so Mr. Stark was trying to figure out how to keep Loki here cause with his magic there's just no way right? And finally I asked like ‘he's probably just bored. I know if I was stuck in a room for a week I'd go crazy even with books and the TV and stuff. Mr. Stark agreed so we got a laptop set up and stuff.”

“Tony actually let you come along?”

“It  _ was _ my idea that he was bored. Anyway so we get to his room right and Mr. Stark knocks. And Loki is just right there, watching Black Mirror. He was a lot taller than I thought he would be. He seemed really confused that we would be nice to him but I guess that makes sense after what he did before. He actually laughed though. Anyway we gave him a laptop. I don't know if he's ever even seen a computer. But he was using Netflix, he will probably figure it out right? I told him how to click on stuff and scroll. I gave him my email and my phone number.  _ To Loki.  _ But he seemed really cool. Like cautious and stuff too but not like I thought, you know after the whole attack and stuff…” Peter tapered off. “I think. I think he needs a friend, you know? Like people can't just be alone. I mean, obviously he's not a  _ person _ but.”

“I think you did the right thing Peter.” He said.

Peter's eyes lit up. “Yeah? I hope so. I have to go tell Ned! He's never gonna believe this!” And then Peter was back in the elevator and gone before he had a moment to speak.

When the elevator returned he rode it to their apartment. Steve was already back and making dinner. “So I heard what the meeting was about.” He said wrapping his arms around Steve's waist. Steve leaned back into his touch. 

“Clint and Nat were pissed. I guess I just expected when we found out Loki was staying that Tony would have told them too.”

“Tony has been a bit busy going crazy trying to fix security. Apparently Peter went with him to talk to Loki.”

“ _ What! _ ” Steve spun, barely missing elbowing him in the nose in the process. “Tony took Peter with him?”

He shrugged. “It was Peter's idea. Besides it went fine. Apparently Loki was pretty cool.”

“That isn't the point! Peter is a child. Tony can't just go putting him in danger like that.”

“Peter's a strong kid. Hell he's probably stronger than both of us together. He was fine Steve.”

Even with the assurance Steve was in a piss poor mood the rest of the evening.

By 11 that night he was sick of it. “Are you planning to be in a shit mood the rest of the night?” He snapped. 

Steve, who had been glaring at the TV like it had personally insulted him, turned to glare at him instead. “There is nothing wrong with being upset at this situation okay? Maybe he's changed but if not do you even understand how fucked we are? He can take over your mind Bucky! He can brainwash people just like Hydra but in an instant. If anyone you should understand why that's such a bad thing.”

He stood, crossing to the couch and pulled Steve into a hug. “I know you're scared but everything is okay. Thor says he's changed an-”

“Thor always says that.”

“D Bruce says it too.” He continued over Steve's interruption. “People change Stevie. We have”

“He's not fucking human!” Steve all but shouted. “He may look human but he's an alien! A monster who could destroy everything at a moment's notice!”

“If he was going to I think he would have already have. Last time he was here what like three days? It's been a week.”

“And he left!”

“He came back though Stevie. If he wanted us all gone he has had  _ days _ . All we can do is wait and see.” Steve huffed and scooted closer to him. “I know you're scared Stevie. It's gonna be okay.” He pressed a kiss into the other man's hair. 

April 16th

Stretching he rolled to his feet and wandered into the kitchen. Steve was out most of the day with some charity thing. He felt bad not being there with Steve but he'd been up half the night trying to get Tony to quit upgrading wires around the reactor downstairs and go to bed. 

He'd had Tony on an almost normal sleeping and eating schedule for the last few days. Then Tony had noticed a slight fray in a single wire on the reactor which was cause for him to completely redo every wire on the damn thing. It had been almost four when he finally made it into his own bed. 

He hadn't even woken up when Steve had left at seven and he hadn't ever been happier to find a note left for him on the counter. 

He reached for an apple when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his breath caught in his chest. He was not alone. He spun metal and catching the throat of the intruder. He lifted the man up the wall, surprised to hear his arm whir and click under the weight of the lean man.

Loki's eyes were wide with surprise but he didn't struggle against the hand that held him. Instead vividly bright green eyes held his. “Your eyes.” He said and Loki blinked as a momentary flash of confusion that was immediately swallowed up by the calm mask. “They were blue when you attacked New York, now they are green. And you didn't look like you do now.” His mind flickered back to the video, the feral almost animalistic look on Loki's face. It was nothing like how he looked now, surprising can for being lifted up off the floor. “Then after Hulk beat you, you were all broken and bloody but you look like you do now. “Someone else was controlling you. You were brainwashed during the attack on New York weren't you?”

“Yes.” The single word was spoken so quietly he wouldn't have heard if not for the silence in the room. Loki's eyes darted around the room.

He hesitated. “You use magic though, to hide how you look. I've seen it on the feed, when you were scared or thought you were alone. Dark circles under your eyes, hair crazy. Show me what you really look like.”

That seemed to take far more consideration than admitting to the brainwashing but then he felt something almost like a ripple of air and the magic seemed to wash away. 

Loki's hair was less wild than the other night but definitely not silky smooth as it had appeared. He had the dark circles under his eyes that clearly came through on camera when he let his magic down. Loki's eyes were very slightly red rimmed. He wondered if it was from being held up by his neck or if the other man had been crying. Did aliens cry? Still his eyes were bright green. 

Another ripple and the imperfections were gone. Cautiously he let Loki down from the wall. He and Loki were either exactly the same height or very close to it. The other man looked him over with curiosity before his eyes tracked around the apartment. “Bucky.” He offered a hand. 

Loki extended his own hand. “Loki. Of Asgard. 

“Good to meet you Loki. The real you.” A smirk twitched at the edges of Loki's lips. Loki's hand was surprisingly cool to the touch and there was a faint almost crackling to it. Like static electricity but too light to really feel.

Movement from his left drew both their attentions. Pup who had been watching from a distance hesitantly stepped closer. To his surprise Loki dropped gracefully to one knee. That was all the encouragement Pup seemed to need before tackling into Loki. 

Loki laughed as Pup made a valiant effort to climb up Loki's chest for attention. “She seems to like you.” He said with a smile.

“It would seem so.” Loki agreed, petting down Pup's back. “Does she-” Loki stopped abruptly as the elevator opened. Tony's wide eyes found Loki and in an instant Loki was gone. Pup spun in a circle looking for him as he stepped towards Tony.

“Why was he here!?” Tony demanded. 

“It's okay Tony. He was just saying hi to Pup.”

“It's not  _ okay!! _ He's a mass fucking murder Bucky!! He can't be ‘just saying hi to Pup!” Tony was shouting. “You can't talk to him. You can't be friends with him. You need to stay away from him!! It's not safe okay? You. You can't. You just.”

“Tony. I'm fine. Everything is okay. Breathe.” Tony's breaths were coming in tight wheezes. Crossing to the elevator he pulled Tony into a hug. Tony's fingers scrabbled at his shirt, struggling to pull him closer. “Breathe Tony. In.” A strangled hiccuping sound was all Tony managed. “I know Tony. It's okay. Again.”

It took almost an hour to get Tony calm enough to breathe normally. Every time he could pull enough air in he'd start shouting again. It wasn't until he threatened to duct tape Tony's mouth shut did the other man stop yelling enough to calm down completely.

He considered bringing up the brainwashing but Tony was smarter than he was. He probably had already known. If not he knew Tony would watch the recording of him and Loki. If he didn't know already he would soon. 

He and Tony sat on the couch. Tony had managed to pull himself into a rather tight ball and tucked into his side. His breathing was regular now but he could tell Tony wasn't really with him. He hoped he was just building something mentally and not checked out because of Loki. 

The soft ding of the elevator door jolted Tony to his feet like a lightning bolt had struck him. “Hey Cap.” Tony said, his voice completely upbeat. He wondered how often Tony had faked that voice for it to be so convincing.

“Hey Tony. Listen, I need to go over some stuff with you on one of the charities this week. I know you've been busy but think I could steal a half hour or so?”

“Yeah. Yeah sure. We will work it out.” Tony was already in the elevator. The doors closed on the last of his words.

“Hey Buck. What was Tony doing up here?” Steve looked more curious than concerned.

“Loki dropped in for a visit and Tony lost his shit.”

Steve went still, eyes watching him. “Loki? Was here in the apartment?”

“Yeah but he wasn't doing anything. Just saying hi. Pup loved him.”

“And Tony was with him when it happened?” Steve's voice was calm.

“No. Loki just kind of appeared here? And he startled me so lifted him up the wall by his neck but we talked some and I let him down then Pup all but tackled him. After that is when Tony showed up and Loki disappeared.”

“Next time Loki pays a visit, unless I'm here, I don't want to know about it.” Steve said softly.

“Sure Stevie. No problem.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He blinked awake. Steve was tossing in his sleep. He reached out, resting a hand on Steve's arm. “Stevie. Nightmare.” He mumbled. Days of not enough sleep were catching up. A whimpered “no” was the only warning he got before Steve started swinging. “Shit!” He pressed forward wrapping his arms around Steve's body and trapping the other man's arms to his side like he had when they were children. “Steve! Wake up!” He said loudly.

For a moment Steve strained against his arms then suddenly the other man fell still. “Buck?” Steve's voice was rough from sleep.

“Hey Stevie. You back with me?” He softened his hold, reaching to cup the other man's cheek.

“Yeah. Sorry. Bad dream.”

“It's okay Stevie. Wanna talk about it?”

“Loki. Here. Our apartment. Killed you.” Steve's breath was still coming in puffs. 

“Breathe Stevie. Is okay. He's not going to do stuff like that anymore. We are safe.”

“Bucky you don't  _ know _ that.” Steve said softly. “I know you think we can trust this guy but-”

“Stevie he was brainwashed. He couldn't help what he did. If you're saying we can't trust him, then why would you think you could trust me.”

“He… What?” Steve turned to look at him.

“During the attack he was brainwashed. He didn't have a choice.” He repeated. 

“Bucky that can't be true. He is just lying to you. Thor says Loki is always telling lies.”

“No really. Look.” He reached over pulling over the Stark Pad. He pulled up the images of Loki today and one from the attack on New York. “Look at his eyes.”

Steve bent over the tablet. “They were blue. Like Clint's. But no, in the tower after they were green. I remember.” 

“In the tower he didn't look like this either.”

Steve started. “So when then mind control broke, that's when he gave up?” He nodded. “Does Stark know?”

“Yeah. I'm sure he checked the footage of Loki coming down after he left and I got him to admit it then.” Steve passed the Pad back and dropped into his pillows.

He deposited the Stark Pad on the nightstand before sitting up enough to catch Steve's lips in a kiss. Before Steve could deepen it he pulled back and began to kiss a line across Steve's jaw and down his throat. Steve hummed deep in his chest. His hands lazily roamed over the hard planes of Steve's chest as he caught one of the other man's nipples between his lips. 

Steve moaned softly as his tongue teased Steve's nipple until it was firm. His fingers trailed lowered to wrap around Steve's rapidly filling cock. “Gonna help you sleep Stevie.” He whispered into the quiet and Steve's breath caught. He wondered if those words brought back all the memories for Steve it did for him of ‘helping’ after nightmares.

He kissed lower careful to avoid Steve's cock kissing and sucking on Steve's thigh instead. Steve whined softly. Scooting until he was tucked between Steve's legs he smirked up at Steve. Steve had collected the pillows and was propped up enough to see what was doing.

He winked at Steve before licking from Steve's balls clear to the tip of his leaking cock. Then in the same movement he opened his mouth and swallowed Steve down in one fluid motion.

“Bucky! Fuck!” Steve's hips shook with the effort of not fucking into his mouth. It didn't take much after that before the shivers and shudders became constant. His right hand moved up to gently roll Steve's balls as he sucked. 

“Fuck. Bucky. Please.” Steve managed his breath in ragged puffs again. He redoubled his efforts and it took less than a minute before Steve's hand caught his hair. He relaxed letting Steve use his mouth. A tight grunt was the only warning he had before Steve was coming. He managed to swallow it down without making a mess. Steve's hand remained fisted in his hair so he took the spare moment to lap over Steve's slowly softening cock. Steve shuddered the sensation obviously threatening to push over into too much. When Steve finally released his hair he climbed up the bed and dropped back next to Steve. “Thanks Buck.” Steve mumbled sleep already roughening his voice. “Do you need...” Steve tapered off.

“I expect an amazing blow job tomorrow morning.” He said with a smirk. Steve mumbled something that sounded like he agreed. Moments later Steve made a soft snore. He laughed and rolling into he let himself drift back to sleep.

April 19

“I think that has it. Jarvis, run test?” Tony's voice cut through daydreaming. He'd spent a good portion of the morning down in the lab with Tony watching the man rewriting some of the security. 

Tony had finally settled into that could be considered a normal adjacent pattern of eating and sleeping. Jarvis had reported Tony getting a full 6 hours of sleep without needing any prompting the night before. 

“Two errors found in the proces-”

“Mute.” He sat up in his chair at the same time as Tony whirled around. Pepper had stepped out of the elevator and was crossing the room.

“Pep. Your here.” Tony's voice sounded almost far away. Then suddenly Tony was moving. “Pepper no. You cannot be here. You need to go back to London you cannot stay here it's not safe yet!” Tony's voice got louder as he spoke. Tony came to stop in front of Pepper continuing to try to talk as she did.

“Tony. Tony I can't stay in London.”

“If course you ca-”

“Tony I have a business to run. I need to be-”

“n. London is great. There is teleconference you-”

“here where the business is.”

“Pepper please. You can't be here right now it's-”

“I have a dozen meetings today and the next-”

“not safe. I'm still rewriting security and Jarvis-”

“one is in five minutes. TONY!” Tony stopped taking eyes wide as she raised her voice. “Tony. I don't have time okay? I have a multi-billion dollar business to run and I cannot do that from London. I need you to sign these.”

“Pep please?” Tony's voice was pleading.

“Tony. Everything is okay. Now sign here.” In less than a minute Pepper was crossing back to the elevator and gone. 

“Tony?” He asked uncertainly.

Tony was pacing, hands opening and closing. Tony's hands covered his face for a moment and even from a distance he could see he man's hands shaking. Then Tony was back at the monitor. “Show me the errors J.” Tony's voice was hard and quiet.

He wanted to speak, to ask Tony how he could help but something in Tony's voice kept him quiet. It was another four hours before the code came back error free. “Run it. Implement it tower wide. Let's go.” Tony said before dropping into his chair.

“Tony let's go get some lunch.” If Tony heard he wasn't answering. “Tony?” He kept his voice quiet in case Tony wasn't hearing him.

“Be quiet or get out!” Tony shouted. He jumped in surprise. Tony took a few deep breaths and rubbed his face. “Sorry. I'm sorry. I just. I can't right now. I can't stop. I didn't expect her back for another week. It's not safe. I have to make it safe. The threat is literally under the same roof as everyone I care about I can't stop now. I need to update more codes, modify the suits, make some changes to the reactor. It's not safe yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Final chapter. I do plan to return to this at some point and add at least some one shots.
> 
> If you haven't already I _highly_ recommend hoping over to Wolfloner's series Finding Beauty in Negative Spaces, which picks up right before this chapter and continues forward with Tony and Loki's relationship.
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with this as it was my first story and I know it has some ups and downs!
> 
> Love you all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful [Wolfloner,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner) both for lending me her world in which to write and for encouraging me to get this written. 
> 
> If you haven't read FBINS by Wolfloner, I encourage you to check it out [here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1051433) This fic is set 2 years before FBINS begins and while they both stand alone they do eventually meet at the end of this fic.
> 
> Also thank you to [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie) for helping cheer me on and keep me sane!

April 28

True to his word he wasn't sure Tony had stopped working in over a week. He tried to help, tried to get Tony to eat or sleep but the only thing that worked before was spending the night with him and he couldn't exactly do that now that Pepper was home. She seemed just as busy as Tony trying to get caught up with everything from Stark industries.

Loki hadn't shown any signs of trying to cause trouble nor had he apparently left his floor. He'd considered going to visit Loki but was honestly worried about doing anything that might drive Tony any more frantic than he already was. 

Tony had spent the morning trying to figure out a way to sample Loki's magic so he could write coding and build armor against it. It wasn't going well if the fact Tony had accidentally shattered a mug and almost gone into a panic attack. “Sir, Ms. Potts has asked me to remind you that you agreed--”

“Yeah okay J. Tell her I'll be there, mute further notifications for today.”

“Of course sir.” 

Tony rubbed his face before turning to glance at the projection with Loki. He moved away from the projections and dropped into his chair next to the boot of his latest armor. 

“Tony, where is Pepper?” He asked uncertainty.

“She's at her aunt's house. Her uncle died. I have to go to the funeral in a few days so I have to finish this suit so I can bring it.”

“Fine but you're getting some sleep tonight Tony. I'm serious you need it.” 

“Yeah okay. Sounds good.” 

He sighed. Tony wasn't listening anymore. “I'm going to go hang out with Steve. See you at 10.”

“Yeah.” Tony said.

It took more than three hours to peel Tony away from his work that night but he was glad to finally get the other man to go to bed. Tony knocked out without even getting under the covers. He pulled them down and was able to wrestle them up over Tony before laying down himself.

May 2

He stretched as he rode the elevator down to the lab. Tony had actually managed bed on his own the night before, even though it had been late so he'd finally gotten to sleep in his own bed again. 

Steve had pulled him in for cuddles and they had ended up spending the morning curled up together in bed alternating between looking at their phones and dozing. He finally felt something like well rested after spending so many nights forcing Tony to bed.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped off opening his mouth to speak when he froze. Pepper stood in the middle of the lab. Tony was standing in front of her, hands in his hair. Pepper's voice carried easily across the silent space. “I'm sorry Tony. I've tried. I wanted this to work more than anyone you know that. I've handled the crazy hours, the constant time down here, the complete lack of responsibility in the company, the whole Ironman thing, the forgetfulness but I just can't anymore.”

“Pepper please I-”

“Tony no. I'm sorry. I truly am but I  _ needed  _ you. I set reminders to your phone,”

“It was dead I hadn't-”

“I told Jarvis to remind you,” Pepper continued over Tony's explanation.

“I thought I had more time. I lost track-”

“I did everything I could Tony. I just needed you for  _ one day _ to be there for me. Just one day. I don't think that's too much to ask. I will keep running the company but I can't do us anymore Tony. I'm sorry.” Pepper pulled the ring off her finger and held it out to Tony.

Tony shook his head. “No. Keep it. It's yours. It's always been yours.” Tony's voice was raw but level like he was in shock.

Pepper hesitated a long moment before her hand closed over the ring and she turned to the elevator.

He realized far too late this was a conversation he definitely wasn't supposed to overhear. He should have turned and left as soon as he heard what was going on. Pepper didn't notice him until she was less than a few feet away. “Oh! Bucky. Excuse me.” She said softly, stepping around him. Her eyes were red rimmed even though he saw no tears in them now. Before he could say anything the elevator doors closed and she was gone.

He looked up at Tony. The other man was staring unblinking straight ahead. “Tony?” Tony jumped like he'd been shocked before turning to look over at him. Tony looked lost. He crossed the lab to stand next to Tony. Hesitantly he reached out, resting a hand on Tony's shoulder. “Tony? You okay?” It was a stupid thing to ask but honestly he didn't know what else to say.

“She's gone.” Tony's voice sounded hollow. “I knew. I always knew it wouldn't. She was so much better, could do better. I.” Tony's hands were moving, tight little jerks. He doubted Tony even registered the movement. “She.” Tony pulled back suddenly hands coming to to rake frantically through his hair. Tony stilled then drug a hand down his face. “The day I muted Jarvis. That was the day. I thought.” And then Tony was moving again sharp tense movements. “I thought...if I just” Tony stopped, staring at the mini arc reactor he'd been working on last night. “If I just tried hard enough I could protect her.” Tony grabbed the reactor off the bench and drew back to throw it. He lurched forward grabbing it from Tony's hand. He wasn't sure if the unprotected reactor could handle being slammed into the floor and wasn't keen to know what would happen if all the energy was released from it at once. “Damn it!” Tony shouted, hands back to rubbing over his arms and face. 

“Tony, let's go sit on the couch.” He suggested quietly.

Tony's eyes turned to meet his as though he was only just realizing he wasn't alone. “No. I.” Tony's hand moved back to his hair, brushing it down. “I'm going to go lay down.”

“Do I need to come up?” 

Tony shook his head. “No. I will be okay.”

He hesitated a moment. “Okay Tony but if you need me…”

“I will. Thanks Buck.” Tony pulled him into a surprisingly brief hug. 

“Yeah Tony. Of course.” They rode the elevator in silence. He stepped off before Tony, giving the man one last look as the doors closed.

Steve was sitting in the living room, laptop on his knees, still nursing the cup of coffee he'd made for him before leaving for the lab. “Buck? Everything okay?” Steve sounded concerned.

“Not really. At least not for Tony. Pepper just broke it off with him.”

“What?” Steve's eyes widened. 

“Yeah. You know how I said she was out of town for a funeral?” Steve nodded. “I guess it already happened. Tony wasn't there. Seemed like it was the last straw.”

“Shit.” Steve breathed. “Where was Tony going?”

“Up to his room. He was gonna try to sleep.”

Steve nodded. “Out of all the things Tony could do, sleep is probably the best option.”

“Since he's going to be out for a bit I'm thinking I'm going to go visit Loki.” He could see Steve's shoulders tense but he kept talking. “He seemed to really like Pup and honestly even with the laptop Peter and Tony gave him it's gonna be lonely.”

Steve was quiet long enough to started to worry he'd broken the other man. “I want to come.” Steve said softly.

“Really?”

“If he was really being controlled by someone else...I want to see the difference myself.”

He nodded. “That's fair. Come on Pup.” He called. Pup, who had remained buried under a blanket on the couch while they talked, stretched than slowly slid off the couch bringing the blanket along with her. “Your royal highness will need to leave her cloak here.” He said pulling the blanket off and tossing it back to the couch. Pup writhed over to him, her whole body squirming as though going from only hearing him to also seeing him was the single best thing in the world. He couldn't help kneeling to pet her for a moment. 

Steve closed the laptop and stood before walking down the hall to the bedroom. “Here.” Steve said, tossing something to him. He caught the something and looked. Steve had grabbed him a switchblade. “Really Stevie? We are going as  _ company _ . Unarmed company.” He set the knife down on the table. “Unarmed or don't come.”

“Bucky, even if he was controlled he is still dangerous.”

“Unarmed or don't come.” He repeated before crossing to the elevator. Steve swore but dropped his own knife into the table before following.

When the elevator doors opened he knocked. From inside he heard the TV getting turned off. He stepped over Pup and squeezed a leg on either side of her hips to keep her from bolting into the apartment as soon as the door opened. It turned out to be the right decision as she jolted forward as soon as the door was cracked open. 

Loki opened the door slowly, his eyes traveling warily over Steve before moving to his face. “Bucky?” 

“Hey.” He kept his tone light and easy. “Figured we would stop by and see how you're doing. Plus Pup wanted to see you again.” He glanced down at Pup who was trying to squirm out of his hold to dart into the room. Loki's eyes followed his. For a long moment he thought the man might close the door on them but then Loki opened it wider allowing them in. 

He released Pup whose whole back end swung back and forth with excited as she moved to where Loki held the door. He filed in, Steve behind him. Loki knelt to pet Pup and he saw the smile pulling at the edges of the other man's lips. Pup was making a valiant attempt to lick every visible inch of Loki's skin.

His eyes tracked around the room. It could have easily been a hotel room for as many personal belongings that were visible. A few books sat on the coffee table. Even from across the room he could see they weren't all English. One he was confident was German, another French and two were in languages he'd never seen before. The laptop Peter had mentioned sat closed next to the books.

Next to him Steve was ramrod straight and tense like he was waiting for a bomb to go off. Pup, having managed to lick everywhere Loki would allow, moved to begin sniffing around the room. Loki stood his eyes back on Steve.

“Loki.” Steve said. His voice tight.

“Captain Rogers.” Loki sounded completely relaxed but he could see the slightest whispers of anxiety on the other man's face. 

“Just Steve.”

“Steve.” Loki nodded. “And what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?”

He shrugged. “Figured you might be lonely. We don't need anything.”

Loki's eyes moved to track Pup's exploration of the room. “So what were you watching?” Steve asked.

Loki looked back at the TV. “The History Channel? I believe this is called Vikings. It is interesting to see what parts of history have passed down and what has passed into legend.” 

Pup had taken extreme interest in a book that lay open on the table. The letters in the book seemed to gleam slightly. He moved closer, Steve tight behind him. As he got closer he realized this was a book Loki was writing in rather than reading. With a wave of Loki's hand the book disappeared. Pup's head jerked up eyes searching as she tried to figure out where the book had gone. He couldn't help laughing at the look of shock on her face.

“How do you do that?” He made a have gesture roughly like how Loki had. “The magic.”

“Not magic.” Loki corrected. “Sorcery. It's something I've studied for many years.”

“Is there a difference? Between magic and sorcery?” He asked dropping into the couch. Pup squirmed against his knees begging for attention.

Loki sat on the opposite couch and seemed to think a moment before replying. “Magic is innate. It cannot be taught. If you are not born with a specific type of magic, you will never have it. Sorcery is created. It is woven into existence with knowledge and practice. Sorcery can be taught.”

“So you only have sorcery?” He asked. Steve moved to sit next to him. He could feel Steve's eyes searching over Loki.

“I have both. What you just saw, that was sorcery.” He nodded. “May I ask a question?” Loki's voice was calm.

“Sure.”

“Why do you wear armor only on one arm?” 

He smiled. “Not armor. My arm was...damaged beyond repair. This is a prosthetic.”

“Prosthetic?” Loki echoed. 

“Yeah.” He quickly tapped in the release code. He couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up in response to the look of shock Loki's face as he removed the arm from its joint. He held it out so Loki could see nothing was underneath then reconnected it.

Loki had moved forward to the edge of the couch. “Can I?” He reached out. 

“Yeah here.” He stood and moved to sit on the same couch as Loki. Steve looked ready to jump across and tackle him to protect him from whatever Loki wanted to do. 

Loki's hands tentatively touched the arm. His long thin fingers were surprisingly cool to the touch. “You can still move it. You lifted me with it.”

“Yeah.” He opened and closed his hand before moving the plates. Loki's eyes tracked the movement. In the moment Loki looked surprisingly young. 

“Can you still feel?” He asked.

“Yup!” A soft warmth spread from Loki's finger tips. “Is that magic? Or sorcery or whatever?” He asked. 

“Yes.” It was a strange feeling. It was warm on the outside of his arm but he could also feel it penetrating into his arm. It wasn't painful, more like the warmth of a summer day. “It's amazing what you are able to create.” Loki said as the warmth expanded. “In Asgard we can heal many injuries but loss of limb is final. My fa—Odin lost an eye in combat many eons ago and wore a patch. It was a badge of honor. He fought bravely that day.”

“Honestly most of our prosthetics aren't good. Tony made this one. We are mass producing them now, making them for everyone who asks.”

“Stark made this?” Loki asked. He nodded. “Mass producing?” 

“Uhh yeah.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the video feed of the production facility. His arm felt suddenly cool as Loki's magic fell away. Loki leaned in to watch the screen. “So this machine receives the measurements we take from whoever is getting the prosthetic. Then it sends that information to this machine.” Loki sat listened with rapt attention as he explained the production as much as he understood it.

He glanced occasionally at Steve who had looked ready to attack when Loki leaned closer but had slowly relaxed back the longer Loki looked on. “If you want there's a show on Netflix or Hulu, I can't remember, called  _ How it's made _ and it shows all kinds it things they make with machines.”

“Those limbs appear like flesh but yours is metal like armor.”

“I have one that looks like skin too I just prefer this one.” He said honestly. Loki nodded.

“How do you and Steve know each other?” Loki asked. “I don't remember you from-” he stopped before completing the sentence.

“We grew up together.” Steve's reply was clipped but at least the other man was talking.

Loki's brow pulled together. “You grew up many years before everyone else was born. I don't understand.”

“How would you know that?” Steve snapped.

“Barton. He told me.”

“We grew up in the same time. Steve was frozen in ice when his plane crashed into frozen water. I was frozen artificially by an enemy.”

“And so many years later you reunited. How were you able to withstand freezing? It was my understanding after a certain temperature humans are not able to survive.”

“Normally not. Steve and I had some help. Back in the-”

“Bucky. He doesn't need to know that!” Steve snapped.

“What's he gonna do Stevie? Recreate it?” 

“There was a war when we were young. The U.S., here, made a serum. They were trying to create the perfect soldier. Steve was the one they gave it to.” Loki's eyes flashed to Steve then back to him. “Meanwhile I got captured by the enemy. They gave me, well honestly they gave a bunch of people a version of the serum they made. I was just the only one to live through it. Steve rescued me and we fought together to defeat the enemy. But I fell. They thought I was dead. The enemy found me. They brainwashed me to fight on their side.” Loki's eyes widened slightly at that. “They are the ones who kept me frozen till I was needed.”

“I see.” Loki said thoughtfully.

“What about you? Are you immortal?” He asked.

“Can't be.” Steve said. “The Hulk didn't do much damage but he was bleeding after they went head to head.”

“I was not unscathed.” Loki's tone was sharp, his eyes snapped up to Steve. “Why do you think I was still in the tower when you arrived to capture me?” Turning back to him he spoke. “Not immortal, no. But I can be killed. I was born long before the first humans stepped on the planet and by my people's standards I'm still young.”

Pup let out a long sigh of frustration. She'd been trying without success to get Steve to pet her. Loki made a soft noise and she bounded over the coffee table and into his lap. He grunted in surprise but kept his mouth shut to avoid the onslaught of licking. 

“Jesus Pup.” He grabbed her collar and pulled her out of Loki's face. “Sorry she's always friendly but not normally  _ this _ friendly.” She curled up on Loki's lap as he pet her. 

“It's fine.” Loki said without looking up. His fingers ran calmly over her fur.

“Are there dogs? Where you come from I mean?” He asked.

Loki smiled. “Yes. They are larger though. More like wolves. You have wolves?” He nodded and Loki continued. “On Midgard they seem to come in many different sizes and shapes.” Loki lifted Pup's head cradling it in his palm then lifting her chin to scratch. “On Asgard they all look very similar. They are bred for hunting primarily but are still welcome in homes as part of the family.”

“Hmm. I guess some things aren't so different. It's weird how some things changed and some things don't.” He stretched over to pet Pup's hip. She looked over at him, tongue lolling happily out the side of her mouth.

“I spent a fair amount of time in the stables as a boy and I was often around the dogs and horses. I guess you could say I picked up an understanding of them.” Loki finished still scratching Pup's ears. She looked like she was in heaven. He couldn't stop smiling at the dopey grin on her face.

He glanced up at Steve. The other man had relaxed some but still looked ready to dive if need be. He looked back over at Loki. If the man could sense Steve's distrust he hid it well. “Bucky said you were brainwashed? During the New York attack?” Steve said suddenly.

“ _ Jesus Stevie!”  _ he snapped. A subtle change passed over Loki's face. If he hadn't been sitting less than a foot away watching he wouldn't have caught it. 

“Yes.” Loki said eyes moving to meet Steve's.

Steve nodded though, seemingly okay with the answer. “I can't say I trust you but if it was anything like Bucky's, I at least understand.”

“I don't expect your trust Steve. I have done nothing to earn it but I understand have to further ambitions to rule your planet.” 

Steve nodded again. Pup climbed out of Loki's lap and moved to the elevator, whining softly.

“I think that's our cue to head out.” He said standing. “Thanks for letting us come hang out.”

Loki stood as well and smiled at him. It was not the same smile he'd had petting Pup. It felt almost reserved. “The pleasure was all mine. Feel free to stop in again.” 

“I plan to!” He called over his shoulder as the elevator closed behind them.

May 5

Another loud clap of thunder seemed to shake the whole tower. He leaned back on the couch only half listening to the show playing on the TV. It had been days since anyone had heard from Tony. 

At first everyone played it off. Tony was going through a break up on top of not enough sleep for over a month, of course there would be some radio silence. But then hours had stretched to days and everyone's anxiety had grown with it. Even Steve was worried, if the literal mountain of food he was cooking was any indication.

He sighed as thunder again rattled the massive building. He should never have let Tony be alone. He knew the other man well enough to know Tony was  _ not _ okay but he'd never guessed it was lock yourself away forever bad. Worse, whatever security he'd changed made it so even Jarvis couldn't answer if Tony was alive or not.

“Mr. Parker is requesting entrance to your floor.” Jarvis's voice cut into the room.

“Let him up.” He and Steve said almost in unison.

A moment later the doors opened and Peter stepped out. He crossed the room and practically threw himself on the couch next to him. “That good huh?” He asked.

Peter let out a quiet groan. “I tried everything. I even texted Ned and he tried everything. I've been through his defense before but this was different.”

“I watched him rewrite everything when Loki got here. It was enough he had to restart the power on the whole building.”

Peter rubbed at his face. “I couldn't even get Jarvis to help. Every time I'd ask he'd say-”

“Wait wait don't tell me. ‘I'm sorry. My current protocol forbids me from providing that information?’”

“Well, forbids me from helping with that, but yea.”

“He's been saying the same thing any time we ask about Tony.” He said, dropping an arm in the back of the couch. Peter took the invitation and slumped against him. 

“I'm just worried. What if something happened? What if something really bad happened and no one was there to help?”

“Tony's tough. I mean, look at everything he's been through and still come away from.” Steve said from the kitchen.

“I emailed Loki.” Peter's voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I asked him to help.”

“Loki has email?” Steve asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah.” Peter said. “I told him about it. He emailed me and everything.”

“I think that was a good idea Pete. Maybe he can use the sorcery to get past Jarvis and at least make sure Tony's okay.” He said. 

“You don't think? What if he tried to hurt Tony?”

“He's had a lot of time to try to hurt Tony, Peter. If he wanted to he would have. It's not like depressed Tony is that much easier to get rid of. I'm sure it's fine.” Peter nodded. “Want to stay and eat? Steve cooks when he's worried and he's made enough food for a whole fucking platoon. What all is it Stevie?”

“I'm not worried.” Steve snapped. “I made brisket, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, green beans, rolls, and baked beans.”

“See? Total normal amount of food.” He said with a laugh, moving to stand.

Peter jumped up. “Yeah that sounds great. I haven't eaten much today.”

“Just be glad you haven't had to smell it cooking all day.” He said. “Hey Jarvis? Invite Bruce down too.”

“Certainly sir.” Then after a moment, “Dr. Banner will arrive shortly.”

One Bruce arrived they loaded up plates and settled down in the living room to eat since the table was buried under mountains of food. The talking was limited and the storm outside continued to rage on.

As Peter was finishing his second plate his phone chirped. Pulling it out of his pocket he jumped to his feet. “It's an email from Loki!” 

“What's it say?” He managed around a mouthful of food.

“Umm. He says Tony is okay! He's really drunk but he's-”

“Mr. Stark would like everyone to know he is unharmed and still alive. He has cancelled the Lockdown Protocol but he would like to be left alone. He would also like to apologize for any worry he has caused.”

Everyone let out a sigh all at once. “I'm going to strangle him when I see him next.” He grumbled.

After that the rest of the evening passed in far better spirits. Everyone laughed and talked and ate until they were stuffed content in the knowledge that Tony was going to be okay.

After Peter went home and Bruce returned to his floor he and Pup took the elevator up to Loki's floor. He knocked and waited. It took a moment before the door opened. Loki seemed surprised to see him.

“Bucky. How can I help you?” Loki asked, his tone guarded. 

“Hey. Just wanted to come up and say thank you.”

Loki hesitated long enough he was about to ask if he should come back but then the door opened. Pup bounded in, jumping to lick at Loki's hands. But Loki didn't seem to notice. Loki's eyes were tracking him warily. Hadn't they left on his terms last time? He couldn't understand the sudden change.

“Yeah. So. Anyway Tony had Jarvis let us know he was okay. I know Peter emailed you to check on him and you emailed back like less than a minute before Tony dropped the lockdown. I just wanted to say thank you. Tony can get in his own head sometimes and none of us could reach him to help. I'm glad you were able to.” As he spoke he moved into to sit on one of the couches, trying to make himself as unthreatening as possible.

Loki continued to watch him, his expression unreadable. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked. “I thought we were good but… Did I do something wrong.”

Loki blinked then spoke smooth and easy, “No. Of course not. I apologise. I've had a few drinks tonight and I wasn't thinking clearly. I am glad that I was able to help Stark. He definitely thinks too much.”

He laughed. “Yeah that's Tony. So did you use sorcery?”

“What?” Loki's reply was clipped.

“To get down to his floor I mean. Everything was locked down. They were talking about having to break through the windows or something to get in.”

“Oh. Yes. I can use magic to travel.”

“So that's magic then? Which means it can't be taught?” 

Loki's face soften slightly. “Yes and no. You either are or are not born with the ability to travel across Yggdrasil's branches. If you are born with the skill you can be taught how to perfect it, how to use it more effectively. If you were not born with the skill you cannot.”

“That's amazing.” He said.

Loki smiled in earnest then before kneeling to pet Pup.

“Could you show me? Maybe not the travel thing, I'm not sure I ever want to do that but something else?” Loki nodded and crossed to the couch. He sat and opened his palm. A shimmering green ball of flame appeared, floating about and inch above his hand. “That's amazing.” He breathed.

“Here. Take it. It won't burn unless I tell it to.” Loki held out the flames. 

Hesitantly he held out his hand. One of Loki's fingers slid under his hand, bracing it before he dropped the fire into his open palm. He flinched reflexively but Loki's hand under his held it still. He watched the flame, flickering over his hand. That soft tingling almost electric feeling was back. The flame was warm but not remotely hot or uncomfortable. “So is this magic? Or sorcery?” He asked, moving his other hand to pass through the flames. The fire glimmered of the metal making interesting patterns on the walls and ceiling of the mostly dark room.

“Magic. I was born with the ability to control fire and ice.” 

“Huh. And the travel thing?”

“Correct.” 

“So if it's part of you, does using it make you tired like over using a muscle?”

“It can be taxing to use too much in a day though that hasn't happened for many years.”

He passed the flame back to Loki but it disappeared before ever reaching his palm. 

“That makes sense.” A blinding flash of lightning illuminated the room for a moment. Loki's eyes snapped to the window. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.” Loki said without looking over.

“I know it's getting late. I'll let you get some sleep. Thanks again for helping Tony. And thanks for showing me your magic! Maybe sometime you can show me something else?”

“Certainly.” Loki said, rising as he did to talk with him to the door. “Have a good evening.” Loki said as he left.

May 10

“Tony would like to see you in the penthouse.” Jarvis spoke into the otherwise empty pool. Steve was out and he'd had a few hours to kill. Would have been nice if Tony had mentioned it ten minutes ago  _ before _ he got in. Still he hadn't seen Tony since the breakup. He'd asked a few times to come up but Jarvis had just repeated Tony's wish to be alone. A quick shower later he was on the elevator.

He stepped out of the elevator, eyes scanning the room. Tony was standing in the kitchen mid-way through a drink of coffee but quickly lowered the mug. “Hey Bucky.”

“Jesus Tony.” He crossed the floor and pulled the other man into a hug. Tony held him close. “You aren't allowed to do that again ever Tony. I'm serious. You are deleting lockdown protocol. You cannot be unreachable like that. We were all so fucking worried.”

“I'm sorry. I know. I just needed time and if I hadn't you would have-”

“Come fucking help? Damn right I would have. You know is okay to need help right Tony?” Tony just burrowed deeper into his shoulder. “Tony I'm serious. You know it is okay, right?”

“Yeah.” Tony mumbled into his shirt. 

He looked around. The room was spotless which means the robot army in the walls were probably working overtime. He pulled Tony over to the couch and Tony curled up tight against his side. “How have you been Tony?” He asked quietly.

“Drunk. A lot.”

“Figured as much. Have you talked to Pepper any?”

“Yeah. This morning. I texted her.” Tony reached out and picked up his phone and passed it over. 

>>Be kind to yourself, Tony

He scrolled up through the few messages they'd sent then passed it back. “I'm just glad Loki was able to talk to you.” He said honestly. Tony fidgeted at that. “Tony?”

Tony was suddenly in his feet, moving to collect the mug he'd left in the kitchen. “I need to talk to you about Loki. I think out of anyone you'd. I don't know. Maybe. I just.”

“Tony. It's okay. Whatever it is just tell me.”

“Loki and I.” Tony pushed a hand through his hair. “We've fucked. Twice.”

Whatever he was expecting from Tony it wasn't that. When he was silent Tony continued. “Once the other day when he came down to talk. I was really drunk I wasn't thinking but then last night I still couldn't sleep being alone and Loki found me because I was keeping him up and he offered again and I just fucking jumped on it.  _ Loki! _ Fucking threw me out a window tried to murder me Loki! God I'm such a fuck up!”

“Tony. Hey. It's okay.” He crossed to where Tony was standing shaking. He pulled Tony into his arms and held him.

“Did Loki do anything to hurt you?” Tony shook his head. “And both times it was something you wanted too right?” Tony nodded.

“Then no harm no fowl.”

“I want it to happen again.” Tony whispered into his shoulder.

“Tony you are both adults. If you want it and he does to then there isn't anything wrong with that. I've hung out with him some. He seems like an interesting person. Well, not person. You get what I mean.”

“So you don't think it's the single most fucked up thing I've ever done?”

“No Tony.”

“I don't like him or anything but…”

“You don't have to justify it. I've had plenty of meaningless sex Tony. I get it. As long as you both want it then there's no harm it in.”

Tony nodded. “I think. I think I'm going to talk to him today. Make sure we are on the same page.”

“Good idea.” 

He stayed with Tony while Tony had lunch, making sure the man ate everything. He'd lost enough weight over the last many days it was noticeable and he wasn't about to let him stay that way.

“I guess. I guess I'm going to go talk to Loki.” Tony said quietly.

“If you need me let me know. And if you need someone to be in bed so you can sleep just call me, okay. No more skipping sleep. Jarvis if he's not in bed by 3 let me know.”

“Certainly Sir.” Jarvis said at the same time Tony said, “I don't need a bed time!”

“Until further notice you have a bedtime. Get used to it. Consider it punishment from worrying us all sick.” 

Tony huffed but bumped shoulders with him as they moved to the elevator. Tony got off on Loki's floor and he rode it down to the apartment. At least now he knew why Loki had acted so weird the last time he'd visited. If he and Tony had just fucked Loki probably had no idea how he'd react.

He flopped on the couch and Pup launched into his chest and laid down. He decided not to mention anything to Steve. Not yet. If Tony and Loki ended up being on different terms and never had sex again no reason Steve should know. 

He yawned. The warm pressure of Pup on his chest was starting to lull him to sleep. He wanted to be up when Steve got back. “Jarvis, alarm for 5 please.” 

“Certainly sir.”

That should give him enough time to be awake and have dinner made before Steve got home. It was hard to believe how much had changed since his arrival to the tower. With a yawn, he stretched out on the couch. Everything was finally seemed to be settling into a new normal. 

He drifted to sleep, a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi feel free to message me here or chat me on [ Tumblr](https://skyshadow3246.tumblr.com/) Also we have set up a Discord for FBINS and my two works Up and Stronger! If you are interested in joining check us out [here.](https://discord.gg/w5AqUAn)


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